013: Lurking In The Shadows
by Rhiononon
Summary: He wasn't a nice man by any notion of the word. In her eyes he was little more than a robber baron, some goon who overthrew those around him by cunning and might. And he had a terrible temper. Darkfic. Dark!Caspian. AU
1. Chapter 1

Title: Lurking in the Shadows

Author: Rhion

Rating: NC-17

Summary: He wasn't a nice man by any notion of the word. In her eyes he was little more than a robber baron, some goon who overthrew those around him by cunning and might. And he had a terrible temper.

Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue. Put those freakin' lawyers away...

Genre: AU, Suspian. Angst, romance, and happy endings.

AN: For emeraldteardrops... I got a Dark!Caspian for you... Hopefully this'll get the Beastly juices flowing. Wait... that may be an odd choice of words.

AN2: Think of this story as SuperDark!Caspian meets Shakespear while in a large porn store... While they both have mega boners. Susan is entertained by this fact and decides to take to her part like a duck to water. Shrewish and horny. Yeah. Caspian's not really complaining.

AN3: Just give it a chance. Trust me, it's worth it.

* * *

WARNING - there are dark themes, and characters are not necessarily what they seem at first. Give this a chance and you won't be disappointed. This isn't some easy love story though, so be warned. Caspian is a dick, but he's got good reasons. Again, all I ask is that you give it a chance. If after the first few chapters you decide you hate it 100 then flame me all you want. But please, just give it a chance.

Besides - Dark!Caspian's guarunteed to make you need new well. Nevermind that.. Just bring a drool bucket. And some Kleenex

* * *

Susan had no idea how she'd gotten here. Well no, that wasn't true - but tripping and subsequently rolling down a hill didn't seem like a good explanation at all. Then again, hadn't she been reading that book Alice In Wonderland? Maybe this was all a dream much like poor Alice went through. That's it - that's what it had to be. It was the only explanation for this strange place. Currently she was trussed up like a pig (which was a great indignity and if she weren't gagged she'd be giving them all a piece of her mind) while hanging from a pole slung over the shoulders of satyrs. Or maybe they were fauns - she was a bit rusty on her Greek mythology. All of which was neither here nor there, because despite the fact that she kept reassuring herself that this was little more than a dream brought on by bad canned meat from her sandwich, she couldn't get away from the fact that her hands hurt. And her face - from where a dwarf had smacked her. Or the fact that she was dizzy from hanging at such an odd angle, her weight jerking on her wrists and ankles. Dreams didn't hurt, at least not this badly.

"What is this?" it was snapped, a man with a foreign accent came to a halt, grasping her chin forcing her to look up at him. "Interesting, where did you find her Nikabrik?"

The dwarf - Susan assumed it was a dwarf, he had a huge beard, and barely came up to her waist (and she as pretty darn short herself), and seemed to live up to every description from fairytales - bowed low before speaking. "Your Highness she was wandering around muttering near one of the springs."

He was tall, his skin dark and sun-baked, and as he leaned in Susan got a whiff of sweat and horse, "You are not Telmarine, nor are you Narnian. Archenlander perhaps, though your colouring is off." With a jerk he tilted her head this way and that, examining her, "I have never seen someone so fair with dark hair and eyes the colour of sapphires." Sighing, the man straightened up, "Nevermind anyway, I have not the time to question her at the moment."

"What would you have us do with her m'Lord?" Nikabrik jabbed Susan in the side with a long finger, grinning, "I'm sure the lads could figure out some fun for her."

Now _that_ frightened her, and renewed her struggling. Susan may not know much about boys, but she'd heard enough stories about men - particularly soldiers - to last her a lifetime. That.. and satyrs and fauns according to Greek mythology - well she remembered enough of it to remember that being at their tender mercies wouldn't be good at all. The man who was in charge turned to look at her once more, head cocked, then with a snort gave her a lazy backhand that made her see stars.

"She would be ruined if left to you, I may have time for her later. Send her to my quarters," hanging, dazed once more, and now unable to fight.

Never in her life had she been hit so many times in one go - even when she'd broken the large antique mirror that belonged to her mother and had had to go outside to pick her own switch. So never in her life had she been treated like so. Huddling as best she could while being hauled through the cavernous hallways, torches lighting the sandstone and granite of their route, Susan just didn't know what to do.

Unceremoniously the fauns jerked the pole from her bindings, but still left her tied up.

All she could do was glare evilly at them as they left her heaped on the floor. Wriggling around ignoring her aches and pains, Susan tried to figure out how to get out of this mess. If this was a dream maybe she could change how things were working by positive thinking.

Several hours later positive thinking hadn't helped one iota. She was still stuck with her wrists and ankles bound, and she _really_ had to pee. Not only that but Susan was incredibly tired, she'd been walking home after a particularly nasty day at school where she'd gotten detention for no understandable reason. All she wanted right now was to be home, making dinner for her siblings in the grungy little house in Finchley. Curling up into a tight ball, she was too fatigued to fight the tears that had been threatening to fall for the last while.

So engrossed was she in being miserable that she didn't notice the scuff of a boot, or the jangling of armour, until it was too late. A hand clamped on her shoulder, rolling Susan over, and there he was. The man who'd had her thrown into this room, who'd hit her, and who stank of sweat, wine, stables and leather.

"Wonderful, a sniveler," he sounded bored, black eyes in his dark face, accented words - he was everything she'd thought a villain should be. "I am going to remove the gag - but if you start screaming, crying excessively, or generally irritating me - I will replace it. And it will come out of your hide. Do you understand? Nod if you do."

Shivering, Susan managed a nod.

"Good," and the filthy cloth was finally removed. "Now -"

"I need to pee," interrupting. At his glare, Susan started to get angry, but something about him advised her against it. "I really do..."

With a growl, she was lifted upright and drug over to a corner where a bucket was sitting, then he knelt long enough to unbind her feet. Susan just stared at the wooden bucket. He gave her a shove, "If you have to go, go, this is not an inn where your comforts are seen to."

Looking at the bucket then back at him, dawning horror on her face, "Ugh! That's disgusting!"

Muscle ticking in his jaw, "I do not have patience to deal with this - if you soil yourself I care not at all," a hand like iron clamped back around her arm, as he started to drag her once more.

"Hey! Fine - I'll do it your way you barbarian!" digging in her heels. In response his hand rose as it had earlier, and she shrank in on herself not wanting to get hit again. "I'm sorry, I'm just... not used to this. I'll behave."

It didn't stop him though, but she had a feeling the blow landed more lightly than originally intended. Tears stung her eyes at the pain, and it was humiliating going to the bathroom in front of him, even though he did have enough manners to turn his head to the side. Straightening up as much as she could considering her still bound hands - and the lack of amenities - Susan cleared her throat waiting for her apparent jailor to do whatever it was he was going to do. Though the thought did enter her mind that maybe if he knocked her out she'd wake back up in Finchley and realize that this was all due to a concussion. That'd be nice. On the other hand she didn't think inciting further abuse was wise.

"Hmph, now, where are you from? Who sent you?" his grip was like a vise as it went back to the same place on her arm, as though she bore a sign that said 'Strangle My Arm Right Here Please'. "The penalty for lying is not pleasant," his tone brooking no argument.

Biting her lip, "I'm from Finchley and no one sent me."

"Did I not just say that I will not tolerate lies?" his voice harsh. Cringing, expecting another blow, instead what she got was slammed into a rough hewn wall, lifted so that her toes were barely on the floor, fingers digging into the column of her neck, cutting off air, "Things will go easier if you tell me who sent you."

Spots floated over her vision, then his fingers relaxed allowing her to gasp for several breaths, "Not.. not lying!"

"You must like pain," muttering, and Susan found herself picked up and thrown several feet. Sprawled on the ground, and her tormenter was over her, squatting as he looked down, hand in her hair, yanking it as he forced her back to arch, "I can keep this up longer than you can hold out on information girl. My suggestion is to come clean. Who. Sent. You?"

"No one!" sobbing. "I come from Finchley, no one sent me..."

This didn't seem to sway him at all, it earned her no pity, and another strike landed over her face. The process was repeated - pick her up, slam her to a wall strangling her, then throw her and smack her around - several times over. And each time Susan still had no other answer for him but the truth. It wouldn't do though, and if she just knew what she had to say to make it stop - she would say it gladly.

Water was thrown over her face, bringing her back from the temporary blackout she'd had, "Who sent you? I can keep this up all night. I have warned you of this many times. So far, I have been going lightly on you because you are a woman." He gave her a shake, "But shortly my patience will run out, and I shall employ more persuasive measures if need be. This is your last warning girl."

Whimpering, Susan just cried, choking out, "I don't know.. I don't know..."

Snorting, "Miraz probably told you I was weak. Well my dearest uncle was wrong," raking his fingers through his shaggy dark hair, "I do not take mercy upon spies - be they female or male. Adult or child. All is fair in war girl, and I am not the weakling he thinks. I will reclaim my throne." His dark burning eyes bored into hers, "Even at the expense of women and children. If that is what he sends, then that is what I shall kill."

"I still don't know..." too weak to do more than whisper it. Maybe death would be a relief at this point. Susan had never experienced pain in her life - up until that time she had thought the worst thing was her monthly, which would leave her doubled up in agony puking and tired. This though was different, her whole body felt bruised and battered, she was dizzy and the room kept spinning, she didn't have any fight left.

* * *

She must have passed out again, because she awoke in pain, but it was mostly quiet, still tied up, and still in that nightmare place. Swallowing she whimpered as she tried to move, to find a less painful position. Before she could shift much, something cold was pressed to her throat, making her eyes snap open.

"So you are awake. Now, who sent you?" he was unbearably close, and she realized that the cold thing against her skin was a long wicked looking dagger.

"Look no one sent me, if you're going to kill me, kill me, I'm too tired to deal with this anymore," unable to summon tears or anything else except resignation. Closing her eyes, Susan waited, then there was a creak followed by a curse.

"You think I will not do it, is that what it is?"

Wriggling until she was a little ball of misery, "I don't care, I don't know where I am, I don't know who you are, why there are mythic creatures everywhere, or anything. Just... stop hitting me or kill me already. I don't care anymore. I just want the pain to stop."

"I barely even laid into you, but I am wondering if more creative methods will work..." muttering.

"Whatever I don't care, do whatever you want you damn barbarian," it came out empty and there was no spite or heat to it. Susan just wanted to go home.

"Where is your home then girl?" she didn't think she'd spoken aloud.

"I told you – Finchley. In England. It's a big island off the coast of Europe. You know - Europe?"

Silence, "Finch-lay? Eeg-land? Urope? Where are these places?"

"Are you simple as well as barbaric?" huffing softly, eyes still closed. The lack of blows was unexpected, so Susan gathered up the energy to open her eyes once more. King Asshole - as she thought of him now - was sitting there, legs crossed, holding his chin as his brows were drawn low over his midnight black eyes. Scoffing at him, "Apparently you are simple. Is it hard for you to think of a response to that other than striking an unarmed woman?"

"You do realize that most would kill you for such words?" it was stern. "I am the crown prince of Telmar and Narnia, and you have the audacity to insult me. Interesting - you are either incredibly brave or even simpler than you accuse me of being."

"Oh that explains everything, you're some moron prince. That's rich," summoning the strength to turn her back on him. "I always wanted to meet a prince, and the first one I meet beats the tar out of me because he's too stupid to know the truth when it knacks him in the balls."

That must have been too far, for he snarled, and Susan found herself being pinned under his weight, hand at her neck, "You will not speak to me thusly!"

"Or what? You'll hit me? Defenseless little old me? Real princely of you, real brave. Does that make you feel manly?" hissing. "Threatening little girls get you off? Go rot in hell King of the Assholes." Susan didn't have a clue where the spitfire came from, she could be harsh when she wanted, but she was so damned _tired_ that even having the strength to breathe was hard. Yet she was egging this obviously deranged and violent man on as though it were little more than a game. "Well news flash Dickless Wonder - you've already done your worst, and even if you have the brain power to come up with something more creative, it won't work. There's nothing more to tell, there's nothing more you can do to me. I already want to die, and I already don't give a shit. So why don't you remove your filthy hands from me and go rape a goat!"

Surprise overcame the rage on his face, and he recoiled as though struck by a brand. Sputtering, his grip relaxed further on her throat, "You.. you...!"

"What? Cat got your tongue? Go away! Or do your worst, it won't impress me. You've already proven you're little more than a pathetic nitwit!" snapping at him softly. For all the lack of force to her voice, the disdain poured from the words, "It's obvious that the better part of you was an unpleasant stain on the sheets of your parent's bed on the night of your conception."

He practically hurled himself up and away from her, snarling to himself as he stomped from one end of the room to the other.

"I should kill you - but you would like that would you not?" his breath was coming from him in short bursts, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "I could throw you to my men, or take you myself, but again you would like that would you not?"

"About as much as I'd like you to sit on a spear and spin," sighing, then studiously went about ignoring him.

* * *

Hours or minutes later, Susan didn't know, couldn't know, she kept losing time, she came awake once more. Still on a cold stone floor. And still in pain. The stiffness was the worst. After the Crown Prince of Asshole Barbarians had finally ceased his pacing, Susan had gone to sleep, just trying to find some escape from the horror of her day. Yet now she was aware again, and still hating every minute of it.

Wiggling around she decided to take stock of her surroundings - maybe if she got enough energy to, she may be able to escape. On a pallet of straw - lucky bastard - her tormentor slept, the hilt of his sword grasped loosely in his hand. The blade was naked, and she thought he really must be an idiot - who the hell would sleep with a bared blade? Then again her opinion wasn't very high of him. After all he beat on lost girls. In repose though, his face lost much of its cruelty and he came close to looking innocent. He twitched periodically, a soft whimper issuing from his lips. For a moment she almost felt sorry for him, he was obviously in the throes of nightmare, but with each intake of air Susan was reminded to feel no pity for that monster, because each breath brought her a flash of pain.

With a great deal of effort, Susan managed to sit up, raising her bound wrists together so she could better examine the ties. Peter had taught her a few things about knots when they were younger as they played, and she'd found herself bound on several occasions. And of course Peter eventually learned that his little sister would give as good as she got, and he'd stopped picking on her at some point. Frowning, despite the pain _that_ caused from her split lips, Susan sighed in exasperation, then set to work on the ties with her teeth. She was most of the way free when her jailor sprang to his feet, sword point flicking in the air to press to her jugular. Susan had never seen anyone move so fast.

"Attempting to get free? To kill me?" it was soft.

It was her turn to growl - she couldn't stand it when boys tried to intimidate her, and as a girl she'd gotten into enough scrapes over that to know that that was what he was trying to do, "While it'd be nice if you just stopped existing, or if somehow you managed to up and die, no. Killing you would be messy and annoying. And more effort than slime like you is worth." Scooting back from him enough to chew at the knot a bit more, mumbling around it, "But yes I am trying to get loose. I'm sick of being tied up. You're a terrible host you know, your mother should paddle you for it."

"My mother is dead, and you will not speak ill of her," whacking her knuckles with the flat of his sword.

Susan's eyes widened and her mouth fell open, "Oh that's just it!" regaining her feet with a fumbling struggle, she brought herself up to her full height - just over five feet, barely coming to mid-chest on the prince, "You are an ill mannered, disgusting, stinky, rude, horrid, ass! I don't c_are_ if your mother's dead - it doesn't give you license to treat me like this!" Taking another step, ignoring the point of his blade that he held poised to run her through, calling his bluff enough so that he backed up minutely, "There are no words for what you are! A menace, an idiot! A barbarian! A jerk! Or how about this one, see if it fits - a selfish prick who knows nothing about anything, who should just take that shiny stick and shove it up his goddamned ass! But whatever you do, just leave me out of it, because you're less than a waste of my time! You're worth less than the spit it's taking me to insult you! You just had to go and piss me off didn't you!" with each word Susan waved her bound hands about, following him as he slowly backed away from her. Glaring mightily at him, "Why don't you just do everyone a favour and kill yourself? It'd save the world time!"

"You have backbone I will give you that," his voice lashed at her, "and you are somewhat amusing. But do not think that that allows you leeway -"

"Lee-way? Gives me lee-way? Oh that's just rich, he thinks that I don't have the right to put him in his place," tipping her head back, speaking to the ceiling.

"Enough!" shouting at her, "What will it take to silence you, you evil shrew?!"

At least he had the brains to realize that gagging her wouldn't work - she had a truly evil glare she was told, one that could peel paint. That took Susan aback though. She hadn't thought he'd think to ask something so simple. Half of her had thought she'd have driven him to kill her by now. Mouth opening and closing Susan tried to figure it all out, then, "I haven't eaten, I'm cold, I'm tired, and I want you to untie me!" Nodding briskly at him, "That'll do for starters."

Releasing a harsh laugh, "Food is reasonable enough, but there is no way I shall unbind you."

"Why not?"

"Because you will try to claw my eyes out, and killing you would make an awful mess of my room," shrugging philosophically.

Saying as sweetly as she possibly could while fluttering her eyelashes, despite the fact she was sure she looked like a bruised raccoon, "Well of course! Why ever wouldn't I do that? Seeing as you've yet to give me _one_ reason not to do so at the first opportunity, your Barbarian Lordshipness?"

He ignored her, walking to his door and opening it, "Hitastik - bring some food for the prisoner along with my breakfast." The door slammed shut afterwards, as he turned to look at her, gesturing, "Be my guest and help yourself to my pallet then. Just keep quiet for a few seconds." With that he proceeded to shuck his brigandine and shirts, revealing a body that was covered in terrible scars.

"Oh goodness..." jaw dropping. She'd never seen something like that in her life, and he shot her a perturbed glance and went to a small basin of water, splashing some of it over himself as though to get somewhat cleaner. After that he ignored her, but Susan couldn't stop staring. All over his back and disappearing into the top of his pants, long thick white lines, some freshly scarred, some long healed, in layers to a point where there was little skin remaining that had been un-abused. Her lips trembled in sympathy at the agony he must have gone through. About his chest there were others, more ragged, some that looked as though his flesh had been torn in great flaps.

All of them looked to have healed badly. No one should be so beaten and gouged.

"See something you like?" it came out cold and arrogant as it broke through her reverie. His face was hard, and then he was standing in front of her, crowding her, and Susan was practically face to face with whatever kind of life he'd had, the evidence painting his flesh. He leaned in close, nose not far from hers, "If you are good I may let you touch them."

Disgusted at him for his attitude, "Not even if you were the last living thing other than myself in the world! Ugh!" But it lacked the sheer venom she'd spewed at him earlier. She couldn't help but pity him. Turning her back on him, Susan walked away, towards his pallet debating what to do from there. Yes she was tired, but he had ordered food brought. Sighing she flopped down on it anyway, deciding to wait. From the corner of her eye she watched as he moistened his face, drawing the wicked knife he'd threatened her with earlier over his skin. Wincing, Susan had a hard time looking as he scraped stubble from his cheeks, neck and chin. While he was rinsing the blade, "What's your name anyway. I could keep calling you Prince Dickhead, or just Asshole, but I have a feeling that there're more men like you around just as deserving of the title. So, just to keep it all straight - what do you call yourself. And try to keep it light - because there's no way I'm going to call you 'King Magnificent Manly Wonder of All Henry' or whathave you."

"Caspian," tilting his face to the side, making a pass over one of the major veins in the neck. Susan couldn't contain a cringe at it, what if he slipped? Everyone would think she'd killed him if that happened...

"No title of Prince Caspian Lord of All He Surveys?"

Caspian flicked his gaze over to her, "I thought we had a deal?"

"A deal? I don't remember a deal," wishing she had something more to wear other than her damaged school uniform. She was still cold.

"Yes, the one where you shut up, and then get fed and get sleep," patting his face dry. It was a marvel he hadn't nicked himself even once as he'd shaved.

Susan shrugged, while eyeing the cloak that was tossed at the foot of his makeshift bed, "I still don't recall there being a deal." Pointing out reasonably, "At least I'm not yelling at you. That should sooth your miniscule ego."

Setting his jaw, Caspian redressed, then pinned her with a look, "I could simply cut your tongue out."

"Oooh promises promises from the big man," snarking. "Does that mean I get to cut off your penis? Oh wait - that's right. You don't have one." Caspian shook his head, but before he could snipe back at her, there came a knock at his door.

* * *

Caspian went over the supply lists brought to him by Glenstorm, debating. There were only so many raids his troops could pull off successfully, and their numbers were slight compared to the amount of men Miraz could bring to bear. Sighing, rubbing his temples, ignoring his captives presence, Caspian wanted to pound his head into a wall. Maybe that would alleviate his headache. Throwing a glance in The Shrew's direction - he still didn't know her name, and he didn't want to, he frowned - it would please her no end if he bashed his brains out.

"Are you going to keep shifting and huffing like a two year old? I'm trying to sleep," his bane grumped from beneath his cloak.

Four days, four days he'd been more than accommodating to her. She was his captive, and even if she didn't know anything about where she was - she had to know _something_ of general value. Yet finding anything out from her was nigh impossible, though he was tempted to smack her around a bit more, see if that would loosen her tongue. Though that hadn't done any good the first time around, her constitution was so weak she'd blacked out on him quite a few times. Obviously she was a pampered thing, even more so than some of the whores who held titles if she couldn't handle a bit of a beating. Biting his tongue, Caspian refrained from giving her the satisfaction of a fight, he didn't have the energy.

Where did she come from that she'd never been beaten? Eegland, Urope - these were odd names. Mayhap these kingdoms would welcome the Narnians? Truly Caspian wasn't fond of this whole war thing, but it had to be done. His uncle had fired the first shots to this war, and Caspian would see it through to the end. With Miraz's head on a pike. Even so it was a nice thought to think of a way to shelter the rest of his people, now that the Narnians were under his protection - besides where else would he get an army?

Pressing his forehead into his palm, Caspian let out a short growl.

"Again with the noisemaking, some people are busy trying to be miserable and sleep here," when he threw her an irritated glance, he saw that she'd bundled up in the thick wool until just her nose and eyes were showing.

"All you do is sleep," snapping.

She huffed, "Well if someone hadn't been so slap happy and beaten the stuffing out of me, I wouldn't need to heal so much! Besides," peeking more of her face out, "it's not like there's anything for me to do. You haven't untied my hands yet."

Her very fair skin still showed much of the evidence of his blows, even though they'd been bare taps in his opinion. Turning around, leaning his elbows on his desk, "You could still service my men. That would be something for you to do."

"Oh Mr. High And Mighty, please don't promise such great rewards, otherwise I fear I'll start to like you!"

"I do not care if you like me or not, woman, I am not here to make friends. I am trying to lead an army in a war," letting his head fall back, eyes closed.

Rustling as she moved around, "What is this war about anyway? You said something about someone named Miraz, and you mentioned being a prince. Are you really so wonderful that you think you're more qualified to lead than this other man?" More movement, more rustles, "Because from where I'm sitting you don't seem worthy at all - what kind of leader beats someone for no reason?"

"I barely even hit you," grunting. "And it was for a reason, if you were a spy I had to find out what you knew."

Quiet stretched for awhile and he thought she may've fallen back asleep, "So you believe me finally? Then you should let me go. I just want to go home Caspian."

"If you are a spy you are either very good or very bad at it, that is what I think." Finally opening his eyes to look at her, his head lolled to the side, ear pressed to the top of his shoulder, "Where is this Eegland and Urope? What are the troop capabilities? Are they hostile? Do they seek to invade?"

"I told you it's England and Europe. Europe's a continent, with many countries. England is an island nation, and frankly they wouldn't want this place at all - its' filthy and terrible. Just like you," it sounded worn out. For a moment Caspian worried that he may have actually done her real harm, she shouldn't be so tired still, and she shouldn't sound so weak. "Besides, they have their own wars to deal with, why bother with a bunch of ingrates like you?"

Groaning Caspian got up, deciding to think about his supply lists in a little bit and went over to her. There was a tiny cringe from her when he was close enough to touch her, but she hid it well. Reaching out, Caspian tugged at the cloak, trying to get a look at her state. Her chin came up like she was about to resist but his look of warning hopefully got through enough for her to realize she better not push him right now. No protests came from her until he started to unbutton her shirt to see if there was heavy bruising or not - if it was only faint he knew he wouldn't have to worry, but if it was too dark it could mean internal bleeding.

"What're you doing?!" straining against his grip.

"Stop fighting," focusing on the small buttons and holes - he'd never seen their like before, and they were difficult to unhook due to their size.

"Then stop trying to undress me," whacking at his shoulder with her bound fists.

His eyes skipped up to hers, dismissing her, "You do not have anything I have not seen before. So stop fighting, I have no interest in bedding you. It would be a waste of time."

Her bottom lip trembled in leashed fury and no small amount of fear, "Then why are you taking my clothes off?"

Frowning when he saw what lay beneath her shirt - she wasn't wearing a corset, just some odd scrap of cloth, "Assessing damage. You should be stronger than you are, more recovered. Not so tired." Out came his dagger, and he proceeded to cut the rest of her shirt off. There were yellow and black and purple molted bruises everywhere. Chewing his lip, Caspian noted that there were no scars on her at all, just the harsh contrast of contusions and fair white skin. "No wonder you are such a bitch," mumbling.

"_Excuse_ me?"

"You have never been disciplined properly, look at you," jerking her around so he could eye her back, "smooth as the ass of a babe. Not a single scar. Hmph. Again, no wonder you are such a bitch, you never learned your place."

It was whispered, "No one whips their children to teach them. It's barbaric!"

Caspian's fingers dug into her shoulder, even as he continued his survey, "You are awfully fond of that word. And is it not what you refer to me as? Your people are soft and useless it seems, only good with words." But her skin was very soft, like silk beneath his calloused fingertips.

To that she had nothing to say, but then, "You were whipped?"

"Of course," grunting as he pressed on a nasty bruise to gauge her reaction. The muscle didn't feel spongy and that was good, but from her sharp cry it had hurt.

"Twice a week, more if I was being difficult," so far it was the only one that may bear watching, and Caspian continued, pushing on her shoulder so her back muscles tightened. "It helps one become a man." She said something but he couldn't have heard her correctly, "What did you say?"

"I said I was sorry," a bit louder.

Puzzled, "Why?"

Her face turned to look at him, "No one should be beaten like that. It's cruel. It... it must've hurt alot. So.. I'm sorry you went through that."

Not liking the feeling her words brought up, Caspian pressed another contusion, punishing her for pitying him. Finished with his inspection, Caspian wrapped her back in his cloak. Brushing his hands off, he started to turn away, saying, "Your wounds are not great, you should be well enough in a while. In fact you are just fine as is, so maybe it is time to find a use for you."

"Um... hello. You shredded my clothes."

"So?" picking the sheaf of paper up, finger sliding down the side of the words as he mentally checked off each thing.

"So - I'm naked," huffing.

"You are covered so why should you care?" the wood of the camp chair squeaked as he sat heavily. "And we are alone in my chambers, so again - no reason for you to worry." Not that he gave a damn. Besides maybe feeling exposed would break down more of the barriers she had up. She had to have a use, had to have information. Otherwise she would not have been found so close to the line of his camp.

So - you've given it an initial chance. I know I'm asking alot of you, but please, go onto the next chapter when it's posed. If you like it already, good. If it's made you uncomfortable - this is also good (yet I'm sorry too), because this is not an easy story. If you're undecided - just wait. And if right now you hate me, hate the story? Take a deep breath, and listen, just... give it two more chances. I swear that things will make sense. Honest.

So - you've given it an initial chance. I know I'm asking alot of you, but please, go onto the next chapter when it's posed. If you like it already, good. If it's made you uncomfortable - this is also good (yet I'm sorry too), because this is not an easy story. If you're undecided - just wait. And if right now you hate me, hate the story? Take a deep breath, and listen, just... give it two more chances. I swear that things will make sense. Honest.


	2. Chapter 2

Caspian jerked awake, sweating profusely yet feeling frozen. Reaching for his cloak he realized he no longer had it. Frowning, he checked the position of his captive. Sleeping in a corner - as usual. Six days, and she no longer yelled at him randomly. But she didn't talk either. And still - she slept so much. But he had so many more important things to worry about than some girl who gave him lip. Even.. even if some of the things she said were a bit funny just for sheer creativity and ballsiness.

Sighing, Caspian shifted, shaking off the effects of his nightmare. It was always the same one. The one where he saw his mother beaten to death for laying with a man who was not his father. Shuddering, Caspian rolled over, swiping his hand over his face. His mother had been so beautiful, and she had been kind. No, she had been weak. Weak like him. When other men would have dragged everything from a captive by now, Caspian had only learned that his 'guest' was from some far off place, and that she thought him little more than an animal. So he must be as weak as his uncle claimed, unfit to rule for he couldn't even bring himself to toss the girl to his men. Or take her for himself until he was finished with her.

Biting his lip, he tried to put the mask back on, the one that had protected him for all these years. To be Telmarine was to be strong and ruthless, to take things from others and make it one's own. He wasn't like that, he wanted to do nothing more than be left alone to read or ride Destrier. The Narnians at least hadn't seemed to mind his weakness, because so far they hadn't seen it - all they'd seen was a leader, a general who was doing a better job than their own when it came to protecting them. Then again, they weren't getting anywhere either. Soon Miraz would find their base and his numbers would overrun Caspian's meager army. Over the last year that he'd been struggling in this civil war, Caspian had grown... fond... of the Narnians. As much as the Telmarines were his people, the Narnians were more to his liking. At least they were upfront. None of the conniving backstabbing he was used to.

But after as a seven year old Caspian had seen his own father's fists rain down bloody death on his lovely mother, Caspian had figured that he must hide any of those tendencies he had. Anger was the strongest emotion he'd been allowed to show, even if he felt fondness at times. So he'd perfected the art of being cool to the point of frigidity. Even so, his weak nature showed itself by the fact that he wasn't using his army up in any way necessary to regain his power. Or in the fact that he was lying here, chilled, while a captive was rolled up happily as you please, in his cloak. And ultimately if all of them died as Miraz's army overwhelmed them - it would all be due to the fact that Caspian was weak hearted like his mother.

Closing his eyes, Caspian willed himself to go back to sleep, he couldn't handle all this thinking, but there was a soft sound that was distracting him. Sitting up, cocking his head, and then he knew what it was. His captive was crying quietly, he hadn't realized she was awake. The sound was disturbing, it was hollow, worn out, instead of angry or hurt. It was like her world was gone, that's what it was. But it wasn't, she was relatively safe, she was fed, she wasn't being beaten within an inch of her life. Many women would kill to be so well off. Carefully Caspian crept to her side, wanting to figure this out, was the place she came from so different than his, that the treatment she received thus far was so horrid?

Her bound hands were tucked under her chin, his cloak wrapped tightly about her shivering form, the occasional hitching sigh or pant the only sign that she was crying. Moving even closer, Caspian craned his neck to see if her face was showing. It was. Lips torn and bloody from chewing them to stay quiet, salt tracks through the dirt that had been ground into her skin, and another fat drop blinked from between her clumped eyelashes. Never in his life had he seen something like this, and it made him irrationally angry.

Caspian had been veritably kind to her yet to her it was as though it wasn't good enough! Soundlessly he snarled, if that was how she repaid the quality of her care, then maybe it should be made worse - so she'd value the better things. Before he could act though, she rolled over. This close he could see in the torchlight how clear her eyes were, and beneath the accumulated grime of almost a week without being cleaned, Caspian could still discern how pretty she was. And just like that Caspian understood why it was that Telmarine men feared beautiful women despite the urge to take them. Beauty could make a man do odd things, like stop being angry, like stop right before even getting started putting a deserving woman in her place.

She was cringing away from him, slowly wiggling until her back was pressed into the wall, her usual fieriness struggling to come to the fore. Caspian stayed frozen though, as though he were drowning in the huge blue pools of her eyes. Somewhere he'd heard that Archenlanders had blue eyes, but he'd never actually seen a human with that sort of feature. Like any Telmarine her hair was dark, but that's where the similarities ended. In the days she'd been here, Caspian had avoided actually looking at her, women were an unnecessary distraction in war beyond the need to sate a body's urges now and again. Of its own accord his hand rose, reaching towards her.

"Are you bored or something?" her voice cut through the fog that had crowded his brain. "Need to poke at me or hit me so you can have some entertainment?" well she was apparently regaining some of the vitriol she could command.

It lashed at him, and Caspian flinched, then turned away, "I have not hit you in days, do you miss it so much that you wish to irritate me?"

She sighed, "Well then if you're going to hit me, then do it. Otherwise, leave me be."

Growling, "Actually I was going to take my cloak, I was cold."

Sputtering, "Well since I'm pretty much nude under here, I think between the two of us - I'm the one who's colder!"

"And is that supposed to matter to me?" quirking a brow. Pointing out, gesturing mildly, "You are a prisoner, your comfort means nothing. Once you realize that, things will be easier."

"What? What is it you want? I don't know anything, and I'm obviously of little use to you!" drawing herself up, shoving away her fear by stint of will alone, covering it up with acid - he was figuring that out at least, "Okay so my needs mean nothing," it was ground out. "And if they mean nothing then why bother keeping me alive in the first place? Fine, just fine, whatever - nothing matters. Not anymore, not if they ever did!" as she shrugged off his cloak, grasping it between her still bound hands, and tossed it as best she could. Clad in nothing more than the odd skirt and foot coverings she'd been brought in wearing, she rolled over into an even tighter ball, goose bumps rising over her skin in the cool air, "You have your stupid cloak - now go away. Or do you want to torment me some more?" Caspian could only watch as she somehow twisted until her chin was on her knees, arms thrown over her head - all in an attempt to stay warm or cover herself, "I'm tired. Leave me alone, just... just go away. You've had your fun."

Swallowing, Caspian eyed the cloak like it was a viper, then his prisoner. Cursing himself a thousand times over for being weak and soft, Caspian picked it up, and draped it back over her, leaning close enough to see the silent tears still leaking from her eyes. Unable to stop himself, "Tell me your name."

She didn't budge, didn't flinch, didn't even react - she was still as stone but for her breathing. And even that was slow, as though she'd shut herself up like an animal in hibernation. Then, "Call me whatever you want," shrugging off the cloak he'd placed back on her. "After all - what does it matter anyway?"

Backing away from her, Caspian was confused, he wasn't sure what to do. He knew what a good man would do - a good man would do the smart thing and beat her. But what he wanted to do was what a weak man did - tuck the cloak around her once more, and ask her if she needed anything. The debate, the two parts of himself that warred with each other were clawing and raving inside his head. Settling on doing the only thing he could do without letting either side of his urges win, he did the expedient thing. He left the room.

XXX

Caspian avoided his room for a day, busying himself with his troops and their copious needs.

"M'Lord, if I may be so bold to ask - what would you like done with the spy?" Morningdew, Glenstorm's mate, inclined her head quickly before moving to walk beside him.

Rubbing at his temple, "Nothing, why?"

"Oh. Yes then m'Lord," but before she could withdraw, Caspian lay a hand on her wrist.

"Is there something wrong? Has she managed to get free and is wreaking havoc?"

"No, no not at all Your Highness," she fidgeted a moment, which was an odd thing to see - centaurs were generally very calm, and hard to fluster.

"But...?"

Clearing her throat, "Well - she smells frankly. And even you are beginning to ah... carry her scent."

Surprised, Caspian mulled that over, generally he bathed fully every other week, but without realizing it he'd stopped doing his morning wipe down though. Shaking his head, he grunted, "Then I shall do something about my odor immediately, otherwise Miraz's army will find us quite quickly if they simply follow their noses..."

Morningdew just stared at him, until she realized it was a joke. A small smile answered him as she ducked her head, "I don't think they have trackers quite that good m'Lord. But... as for the girl, what would you have me do?"

Massaging the back of his neck trying to ease the tight muscles there, "Throw her in a lake for all I care, just get her clean then."

XXX

Caspian trudged back to his chambers, tired to the bone, drained. The raid had been successful but only just - he'd lost four Narnians, and that hurt for some reason. He was growing too attached, and vowed to rotate the Narnians closest to him out. It wouldn't do to invest so much emotion into others, that way only led to further weakness, and he suffered from that malaise enough already. All he wanted right now was to flop onto his pallet and sleep for awhile before seeing to more of his duties, and he intended on doing just that.

Nodding to Jumbletot who was seated by his door, polishing the rust from some chainmail, Caspian entered his room. After ten days it was odd, he'd become used to his companion's presence, so didn't even really notice her until she moved. Frowning he realized that she was sitting at his small table, hands no longer bound, wearing one of his tunics, going over his lists and notes.

Swiftly he was across the room and had her by the hair and dragged her away from the vital information there. How foolish he'd been! It had been sheer stupidity that had made him not think to lock such things away each day! She'd had ten days to go over it all - she probably knew the workings of his campaign inside and out! His fist slammed into her abdomen, doubling her over, but he kept her held up with his other hand, twisting violently in her wavy chestnut mane.

"You are a spy!" hoisting her up in the air by her neck, slamming her several times against the wall for good measure. "To think I was going to let you go soon... Ugh!" snarling into her face, drawing his dagger and pressing it to a spot near her eye, "So girl, I had been right - you are a very good spy. Very good indeed." Barely even registering the tears that were in her eyes, all he could feel was rage, this is why he couldn't be weak - it was easy to take advantage of kindness. Tracing over her skin, watching as small wells of blood seeped to the surface of the shallow cut, "Now - who sent you, and why? What did you find out?"

Her hands were wrapped around his forearm, trying to gain leverage, and he could feel her feet scrabbling for purchase to relieve the pressure he was putting on her delicate neck, "Cas-cas," choking. Caspian could feel the muscles of her throat flexing and starting to cave as he kept the force in his hand up. Reminding himself he wouldn't get answers that way, he let her down far enough so she could stand somewhat, and relaxed his grip. Still she hung onto his arm gagging, "Wanted.. help."

"Help? You want help?" growling. "There is no help for you other than to your grave. Now it just depends on how much you want it to hurt before I kill you..."

Panting, hanging limp, not fighting, despite the grip she maintained on him, "Wanted to help.. you.. Bored."

Confusion started to tweak at the edges of his anger so he switched his line of questions, "Tell me who sent you."

She just stared at him though, even when he dragged the tip of his blade further down her face keeping it shallow so it'd hurt more, even though she was sobbing, "Told you.. no one... Told you..everything... you stupid... barbarian..."

That struck him just wrong, and all the fatigue of the day mixed dangerously with the anger at himself for having been taken in by her lies and innocent face, and it was the final straw, to everything. Roaring, he threw her across the room, towards his pallet, where she hit the wall then slumped down it in a heap.

"Barbarian?" stalking towards her, chest heaving, Caspian unbuckled his jerkin and sword, tossing them carelessly to the side. "I shall show you what a barbarian is." She started to skitter away, and he pounced, pinning her down, taking hold of her hands in one of his, and keeping them above her head, "I should have done this earlier, softened you up properly!"

Her eyes were scrunched shut, face turned to the side, even as she struggled though the awareness of her fate etched every line of her being. The sight of her like this was battering at his mind though, while he hitched the hem of his shirt up her thighs, cupping her mound. Closing his own eyes, Caspian fondled and touched her roughly, and her scream of pain when he shoved two fingers inside tore into his eardrums.

[This section redacted to be within compliance fo FFN policy. If you wish to read the real thing, go to Archive of Our Own instead. ]

She wouldn't even look at him.

Grabbing her chin, Caspian tilted her head towards him, "Now. Who are you?"

"S-s-s-susan P-p-pevensie," stuttering, her fists balled ineffectually at her sides.

"Where are you from?"

"Finchley," choking.

He decided to let that lie slip for now, "Who sent you?"

"No one, I told you no one... no one sent me..." and he felt her go limp in resignation, waiting for more abuse. She was panting and trembling the way a small frightened animal would when at the jaws of a predator.

"Who sent you?" repeating the question.

Her hands fluttered weakly pushing at his shoulders, "No one, no one sent me! I don't know how I got here, I don't even know where here is!"

The sobbing was starting again, and he didn't like it, it touched that weakness inside him.

Clamping his hand in her hair, he tilted her head back, so her shoulders lifted from the ground, "What were you doing with my papers?"

"Trying to help! Trying to help..." it was weak, her frightened blue eyes rolling so the whites showed.

"Why?" snarling at her.

"I was bored... I wanted to help.. I had nothing to do... I'm going crazy, I'm going crazy here... alone.. doing nothing," mewling, tiny hands shoving at his face and shoulders.

Unmoved, Caspian let her push at him. He'd push her somewhere else. Manhood rapidly hardening once more, Caspian thrust into her, she was so much slicker with his spilled seed inside. Eyes that had scrunched closed, snapped open in horror, and pain, and shame, flushing over her pale skin even as fresh bruises were forming all over her. Rolling his hips, Caspian ground against her sex, even though her look was boring into him, until her hands came and covered her face, like she couldn't even stand to see him.

Her lips trembled, cracked yet invitingly plump. Getting into it again, she felt so fucking good wrapped around him, Caspian's mouth covered hers, and he pried her hands from her face. He had to have her. Lips forced her mouth open, so he could plunder her mouth, even as he gave a soft whine of hunger at the wet stickiness that coated his penis where it slid in and out of her. Almost happily his body bucked against her, and he removed his mouth from hers to breath in her ear.

"If you wanted a good screwing you should have just asked," panting, thrusting hard. "You do not have to lie to get it, I will take you gladly..."

It was soft, as she shook her head side to side weakly, "Please stop Caspian... not.. not lying..."

Grunting Caspian ignored her words, enjoying every sweet tender inch of her. But still she cried, every now and then begging him to stop. It got old fast, and was playing havoc with that soft spot that was his bane. When she started to whimper for him to please just kill her instead, that's when he lost it again. But this time it was different - instead of rage, it was like he registered the horror on her face. Really noticed it. Rolling off of her, not even done yet, Caspian got up, keeping his back turned.

There were rustles, and another mewl of pain, as she moved, and Caspian threw a glance over his shoulder. The shirt she was wearing had blood on the shoulder from where he'd bitten her so hard. And the hem was up around her waist showing off the thick ropey strands of his semen on her pubic hair, mixing with the severely abused folds. Her hand was trying to cover herself, but she just couldn't seem to move enough to do it. Gritting his teeth Caspian asked again, forcing his gaze to stay locked on her, to gauge her reactions.

"Who sent you?"

She shuddered, "No one."

"Why were you reading my papers?"

"I told you... I told you.. just.. just kill me, be done with it," even as she struggled to cover herself still. It was like she had no tears left yet still her breath came it violent heaves.

"Why?"

And then she looked at him, really looked at him, and Caspian felt destroyed, laid bare, disgusting... Barbaric. Then, managing to roll over, her back presented itself to him, and he knew he'd get no more from her. Shaking, Caspian backed away, unable to take whatever it was he was feeling. And then he did something even more unmanly than tremble in fear when he was the one with all the cards - he fled.

XXX

Caspian lay on a different pallet, in a quiet corner of the How. Sleep eluded him. Rolling over, Caspian stared at the wall, the sounds of the How and his army, busy as worker bees tending to the needs of the troops. What was wrong with him? He couldn't get the feel of her skin out of his head. Nor could he banish the sounds of her pleading.

Pressing his face into his palm, "Who are you Susan? Why do you torment me so?" it was the first time he uttered her name. It was such a strange sounding one, simple yet elegant.

Hugging himself Caspian tried to take stock. Worriedly he realized that he was showing further signs of weakness, of that evil thing that only peasants could afford to have. Swallowing, Caspian remembered what his father had told him about that. When a man found himself too comfortable with a woman, particularly a beautiful woman, he'd leave himself open for manipulation and sickness of the head. A woman could make a man do anything with soft words and touches if a man let her. Women had a power over men that was indefinable, uncontrollable, except with careful application of training. Training consisting of beatings and the like, to remind them what their place was. But there was a certain point where a man couldn't turn back, couldn't free himself with any ease from a woman's clutches.

At that time a man had two choices - kill the woman, or suffer the malady.

An inability to put the woman in her place, a desire to give her things... Right now his only desire was to go back to his room, and tell her. Tell her something, he wasn't sure what. But it hurt. He was in some kind of strange pain, where his stomach was in knots, and he'd been unable to eat the thick stew Morningdew had brought him for dinner though it smelled delicious. And in the same breath Caspian wanted to have her over him, beneath him, wanted to have her breath in his ear, sighing not as he took her viciously, but from sharing the same pleasure as him. On top of that, the things he knew, the things any good man knew - wanted to strike her, to make her stop bringing such strange things to the forefront of his mind.

Banging his head on the floor repeatedly, Caspian couldn't think straight, couldn't sleep, and was fighting the constant war inside himself a thousand fold. It was driving him to get up, to rake his hand through his hair to resituate it. Like a zombie Caspian made his way back to his room, and stared at the door. Jumbletot had been replaced by Hitastik, and the dwarf didn't look at him oddly at all. Sometimes it seemed like the Narnians forgave him his strangeness, gracefully overlooking it, never judging.

Clearing his throat softly, "Hitastik, has there been much noise from inside?"

If the dwarf knew anything about earlier, he didn't even acknowledge it, and just smiled, "No Your Highness, quiet as usual. She's not very loud it seems. Well - unless you two are in a row," to which the red dwarf chuckled. "You know, the missus and I used to go at it like that. All that yelling and insulting. Was quite fun..."

Hiding his wince, Caspian merely nodded, "Yes, I suppose so."

"Well then m'Lord unless there's aught you need, you should go on ahead and get some rest. I hear it was a rough day out there..."

Nodding, Caspian forced himself to grasp the handle of his door, sweat forming and dripping down his spine. Opening the door gradually, he slipped inside. Susan was huddled up, always huddled, always in a ball, always sleeping - what was wrong with her? And what was wrong with him for even wondering that? On near silent feet he approached, kneeling next to her. With shaking fingers he pushed some of the hair that had fallen in her face away, doing his best to not disturb her. Her hands were tucked between her legs where she was sleeping, as though the pressure would ease the pain there. By the looks of it, she'd been put through a meat grinder, her tender skin covered in flaming bright bruises, and midnight dark ones, patterning her skin like some macabre animal's pelt. There was crusted blood along part of her cheek, and with a shock Caspian's weak nature tore down everything else, forcing himself to repress a sob at the sight of it.

Bending over her, closer, Caspian found himself pressing his lips gently to her temple, inhaling the scent of her hair. Susan whimpered forlornly in her sleep, and Caspian froze, not wanting to wake her. Waiting until she settled back down, he pulled away, then made sure to cover her securely with his cloak. He felt uncontrolled, irrationally angry at her and at himself, paired up with wanting to cry. Tears were for women and small children, not for men. Yet they threatened, and as had become his custom when faced with Susan and all that she made him feel, he left.

Stopping by Hitastik, "Have a healer see to Susan and have them repair any damage done to her. And have more food brought for her at meals as well as any other needs she may have."


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

A few things to remember about AU, and about characterizations y'all. Just so it's put in proper literary style perspective:

1 - This is AU. They (the characters) are NOT what you will expect. They are NOT easily identifiable as "classic" Susan and Caspian (obviously - and if anyone's expecting that they're not paying attention, because the base characters are merely guidelines, the core of the portrayal, and how each is changed by the circumstances and "What if?" question.)

2 - It was originally meant to be a one shot, so the writing flow is that of a oneshot. One hellaciously huge oneshot. And that these "chapters" aren't really chapters. They're spots where I felt I could cut off a section, due to wordcount and imagery

3 - Because it's a oneshot originally, the characterizations change and seem all over the place If Read In Chapter Format

4 - I'm not some author who feels the need to spoonfeed my readers. A story isn't told in synopsis, shoved and condensed into a chapter, then have a buncha crap after it. It builds. It gradually makes sense. It's a puzzle you don't have all the pieces to until the end of the story. That is how one writers properly

5 - This does not mean I'm irritated, it means I'm merely explaining the thought process behind the style (so please dont' take it that way). Take it as a oneshot-book format. Take this as professional writing instead of fanfiction if you must (because that's how I'm writing it) if it makes it easier (without an editor obviously). Of course a book tends to have clear chapter endings. Maybe my next book I'll write, I'll fuck with the readers and do it so for it to make total sense it must be read in one go. That'd be nifty.

6 - I love the mixed reviews, and its good if you're confused - you should be. Because life is confusing. But if you're overly confused, feel free to ask and I'll explain. You just can't read it the way you normally read fic. Fic is easy, this isn't. And a big Thank You to you all.

To the anon reviewers I couldn't reply to:

lucky: Glad you think that the Dark! compliments Caspian. I know it's a bit of a stretch if one were to try and stick anywhere near cannon. But I suppose people don't think about the fact that if Caspian were a real person, no matter how good - he'd proably be one messed up little bunny. **pets him to make him all better**

isisthatcan (interesting name that **giggle**): So where exactly do you think it's going? I can give you a hint - there's 3 endings (one of the endings has a sub ending that if one were to read this on LJ, they'd find it - well when I get to all that, that is), and one meta-ending. The meta ending? You can discount it if you wish, but same goes for each ending. It's the possibilities.

mkay: You're right, I don't think there is another Dark!Caspian. Which is just plain silly, because unless he's some messiah child of Aslan who's got everything good n'pure in him - he's gonna have some _serious_ issues. So why not let him play with those issues, why not make them worse and see what is produced, eh? It's fun and terrible to write him. So I'm glad you feel that I pull it off well.

PevensieFan: Trust me I am quite well aware that rape is far from entertainment. I'm also aware that he's utterly terrible. He's supposed to be, and I know this may cause you to loose interest but the story is an evolution of two characters. Susan and Caspian. Susan becomes a woman (and no I don't mean in the sense that she's lost her virginity, I mean in the sense that she matures massively and moves beyond the sniping shrew of the first while), and Caspian becomes a man. He will always have that Telmarine monster inside him, but he's a product of his upbringing. In fact in comparison he's a fluffy downy lovely little bunny. It's all explained. Frankly if Caspian thought that it was okay for him to be any other way, if the thought had even really occured before he'd become an adult (he's 23 in the story, Susan's 17), then he certainly would be a different person. But he was never given that choice, never even aware that such a thing existed... except for peasants who were exploited.

* * *

Susan wished nothing more than to just sleep. Sleep forever - because at least in sleep she couldn't be hurt. Well, no she could, because Caspian kept appearing in her dreams, but he was different. Very different. He smiled, he laughed, he took her hand, lifting it to his lips to brush a kiss to the knuckles. But those images hurt, because the logical part of her mind, the part that was still awake and aware during sleep said he wasn't like that at all. She didn't even know why those dreams came, maybe as a way to ease some of the horror of being in his presence brought about. When she'd first fallen into his hands, she'd fought. It hadn't done her a bit of good, but even if he struck her, he'd never really bothered _hurting_ her.

Even then, Susan had wanted to do little more than sleep. Sleep was safe, in sleep she could deny what was going on, that she was in some place that was not home, that she was going to die. It was the anticipation that was the worst, yet even then eventually her body and mind couldn't handle the stress of always expecting, always waiting, always fearing whatever the prince would do next. She wasn't too sure how long she'd been here, but it was weeks now. And it'd been several days since Caspian had... Her stomach heaved, and she scrambled to the bucket that was her only privy. It had hurt, oh god had it hurt. What was worse, was that part of her knew it would have been enjoyable if she hadn't been so scared, if he hadn't been so terrible.

There was a knock on the door, and in bustled Rosetta, a little red dwarf who had been bringing her meals to her of late. Most times Susan had enough time to drag Caspian's cloak over herself to hide the damage he'd done to her. But being doubled up, panting, trying to recover some strength after voiding the meager contents of her stomach made that impossible.

The dwarf gasped, and set the tray down quickly, and came over to her, hands fluttering, "Oh dear! Look at you! Here, here let me help you m'lady."

Flinching at the touch of work roughened hands, Susan tried to relax as Rosetta bustled about, helping her to Caspian's chair, "Thank you, I'm alright though."

"Nonsense, dear. Oh, oh my.. no wonder he had a healer see to you," her voice was mournful.

"He should have just killed me," whispering in shame.

Rosetta cupped her chin, smoothing her hair from her face, "No dear, he's not like that. Not at all."

Shifting, Susan repressed a pained hiss at the torn feeling from between her legs, "Really. Well he's your leader, so... whatever. But you can say what you will -"

"Now dear, listen to me. He's Telmarine, and those are a rough lot. As evil as they come!" patting her head, "Yet he's well.. he has hurt you. Oh dear has he hurt you..." she frowned, and Susan could see a faint sheen on her eyes. "But a real Telmarine would have done.. much worse. Most of them would. He's a good man for his kind. A kind one."

Shuddering, "If he's supposed to be a good guy, how bad must the real ones be?"

Rosetta motioned for her to stay put, "The worst kinds of animals you could ever think of. Now you just stay right there for a moment, I'm going to have Jumbletot order a bath for you, it'll help with the pain."

It didn't take very long for a large tub to be brought in, and the whole time Rosetta didn't leave Susan's side, just made sure that no one saw quite how badly she'd been treated. While that went on, Susan focused on eating, head hanging so her hair covered most of the visible damage from the shoulders up. Somehow she doubted that many of the Narnians would sympathize with her, and would find that what Caspian had done to be something quite normal. Wiping the bottom of the bowl clean with the remainders of her chunk of bread, Susan sighed. The quality of her food had improved since Caspian had violated her, and she'd also not seen hide nor hair of him either. Up until he'd raped her, Susan had almost grown used to him, like his presence was somewhat comforting for its regularity. Hugging herself Susan glanced around, and there was Rosetta, directing a female satyr to put in new straw for her bed, as well as a pile of blankets.

And just like that, Caspian's room was made more homey, a longer table with a bench dragged in, and some candles set on it for better light than just the smoky torches that sputtered constantly on the walls. When everyone but Rosetta was gone, the dwarf turned to her head cocked, then nodded.

"Okay dear, into the tub you go, go on, go on, the water should be a bit warm, if it's too cold though I have another bucket of hot, and if it's too hot, there's one of cold," she took Susan's hand, urging her along slowly, careful to not rush her. Short dexterous fingers helped Susan remove the long shirt, revealing the hideously dark bruises everywhere, particularly the nasty fist shaped one on her stomach. Rosetta hissed seeing it, and Susan actually got a good look at it finally - she could discern individual knuckle and finger marks, he'd hit her so hard. "M'lady, if... not that it's my business but why did he hit you? I.. I don't approve of this at all!" her voice was a tiny cry of horror.

Susan eased into the hot water with a moan, "I'm a spy didn't you know?"

Snorting, "I doubt that! At least you have your humour though dear." A cloth was dipped into the water, as the woman started helping her clean up, her movements gentle and thorough, "Someone should have a talk with that boy, I have half a mind to do it myself. But oh those stupid Telmarine laws are so ingrained in him."

"What do you mean?" leaning her head back, almost sobbing at how nice it felt to have someone care for her gently.

"Well the Lords and such, may Aslan curse them with boils on their balls, think that any kind of softness is a disease, something to be beaten out of their sons so that they'll be strong," a thick lather was worked into Susan's hair, smelling faintly of peppermint. "I hear that wives are only to be kept if they can manage to produce a son, and if they don't after the third birth - well. Their end isn't very pleasant."

Shuddering, "I don't understand how anyone can be like that... Why can't they just... I don't know. Be good?"

"Good is such a relative term, and Caspian is a good man, as good a man as such monsters can produce," huffing. "Though I still think I should twist his ear a bit, not that it'd do any good. Treating a woman like that, even if he went easy on you by his people's standards."

Glancing at her, "How do you know so much about them?"

Rosetta stiffened, her face going blank, green eyes slamming shut, then she exhaled in a gust. Moments passed as the dwarf gathered herself, then shook her long carrot coloured braids from her shoulders, "Narnians are fair game for many a Telmarine set on various kinds of sport." Whispering, "My village was decimated when I was only a little thing, no more than fifteen. Eventually I got away, they were bored with me. By then..." Susan took Rosetta's hand lending what comfort she could, she didn't want anyone to hurt, with the exception of Caspian. And even then she just wanted to give him a few swift kicks to his balls. Or maybe a few beats over the head and shoulders with a large object. Or both. She wasn't picky.

"Yeah," nodding her understanding. By the end, death would almost be welcome.

The older woman shook it off, and smiled, "Well it'll be nicer when he takes the throne back from that pox ridden flea bitten pile of horse shite that he calls an uncle."

"What makes you say that?" curious, the pain in her body much less than it had been as she shifted about.

"Caspian is a good man, a better man than most, he's just at war with himself. But he is very honourable, once he gives his word, it is his bond," pouring ladles of water over Susan's head to rinse it. "And he's sworn to change the laws so that Narnians once more have rights and protections. And," she leaned in whispering to Susan, "if he had the right guidance he may do even better than that."

Blinking rapidly Susan tried to figure what the dwarf was saying, "I don't understand."

"Aslan works in mysterious ways, and many of us have hoped that someone would come to help Caspian," the tone was light, and her body language was casual, but there was something off. Susan was too muddled to comprehend it all at once.

* * *

Susan was still sore, and moving was a bit difficult but she'd been permitted to accompany Rosetta around her daily duties. Clad in leather trews and another of Caspian's long tunics, Susan followed Rosetta, her eyes wide in wonder. So many creatures that she'd only read about in her ancient literature classes. She had to stop and just stare when she saw a minotaur dragging a cart by a chain over his mighty shoulder. It was a bit of culture shock, not that the last weeks hadn't prepared her for that fact. But it was just... amazing.

Dwarves, satyrs, minotaurs and - was that a mouse?

"Excuse me m'lady," there was a soft purr behind her, and Susan almost lept straight into the air seeing a sleek tiger with a harness slung about his back carrying supplies.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! Can.. can I help you with that umm.. Sir Cat?" moving out of his way.

"Dear, don't you worry about Jiroon, he'll be just fine without us," Rosetta shoo'ed the tiger away.

Looking at Rosetta, "He could _talk_...! Can.. can all of them talk too?" gesturing towards all the various creatures running about.

"Well of course they can! They're talking Beasts, and all of them can talk. Well except His Highness' horse Destrier. That poor thing's just a regular creature," grabbing Susan's hand and dragging her along. "But it's my turn to help with the bowyers, oh how I hate fletching arrows!"

"Fletching arrows? I don't know how to do that really," trying to be exited. Though in reality she was because after so long cooped up even menial labour sounded wonderful.

"Oh I know it's not all that glamorous, or fit for a lady like yourself, but even Caspian takes turns at mending things," Rosetta confided, giving Susan a little bump of the hip with her shoulder.

Shaking her head as they exited the large castle - well Susan assumed it was a castle mountain type thingy, her only view of it had been upside down while mildly concussed - and they were outside. The sun was so bright and the grass - oh the grass was so _green_ and Susan couldn't help her cry of joy.

"Oh!" running around in a tight circle, arms flung outwards, her hair pinned into a thick braid. "Oh it's so _beautiful _Rosetta!" Laughing she spun about, and grabbed the dwarf's hands, dancing in place, filled with an inexplicable joy for something so simple as being outside. For several long minutes she forgot about her hurts, or about her fears, or the fact that there was nothing all that remarkable about blue sky and green grass. Hugging the dwarf, "Oh thank you Rosetta for bringing me out here... I'll fletch a million arrows and do yours too for thanks!"

The woman patted her back softly, mindful of the state of Susan's body, "It's nothing dear, but I may just hold you to doing my arrows... it gets so _boring_."

Susan nodded and looked up, seeing a large black horse not far from the table where Rosetta was leading her, sat. Shading her eyes, Susan studied the person who sat upon the horse's back, and realized it was Caspian. And he was watching her. Nausea replaced her momentary joy, and she turned away from the sight of him quickly, following Rosetta as fast as she could. But she could still feel the weight of his gaze, even if she couldn't see the details of his face, she knew he was probably scowling at her.

Every now and then Susan would look up from her work and see that Caspian was still there, too far to get a good look at him, not that she wanted to. The last three times she checked, he wasn't there. That didn't mean anything though, he could be anywhere at all. Dipping her head back down, Susan carefully applied the thin super strong glue, then wrapped the binding wire. A truly huge stack was by her, Susan had taken to the task with gusto like a child would to a simple game. It just felt so good to be outside, to be doing something, and for the first time in ages Susan didn't feel tired.

Clomping of hooves, and Susan's back stiffened, knowing it must be Caspian, because it didn't sound like just a single pair like a satyr or faun. None of the others around her reacted, just continued chatting and laughing as they worked. Rosetta had gone off for something, and had promised to be back shortly. Susan didn't know anyone else here, and she tried to stay strong, continuing her work, as though Caspian wasn't there at all.

"You have very nimble fingers," the voice was low and lyrical, very male.

Susan's head whipped up and around so fast, "Um.. thank you." Craning her neck, she saw a truly massive centaur, and watched him watching her.

He picked up a few of the shafts she'd fletched, examining them, "You have done very beautiful work here."

Blushing at the compliment, "Thank you."

"I had heard you spoke more than this," a small smile curling his thick lips.

"Oh," blinking, not really sure of what to do or say. He was obviously a fighter of some sort, his massive shoulders were thick with muscle and all down his torso. The horse part of his body would be over her head if she stood at his shoulder, and his barrel was sleek coated and heavy with muscle there too. At a loss, she stayed polite, "Can I help you Sir? Did you need some arrows? Because I don't know the protocols but I'm sure it'd be alright to give you some..."

"That is unnecessary Daughter of Eve," inclining his head.

"Oh, okay," trying to smile up at him. At a loss for further conversation, because he kept looking at her in this serene manner as though studying her, Susan fumbled for something, "Um.. How has your day been Mister Centaur?"

"It has been as well as can be, and you m'lady, how has your day been?"

"Well since I got a bath and Rosetta brought me out here, it's been absolutely lovely, thank you for asking," shifting around, holding the shaft of an arrow that was waiting to have a head attached. "You know, I never knew centaurs were real. Where I come from that's only in ancient mythology."

He seemed surprised, and his head cocked at this random turn of their conversation, "That is passing strange indeed."

"Hiya Glen!" Rosetta sat down, breathless, a jug and satchel being set upon the table where she rummaged about, pulling out two cups and two large wrapped bundles. Placing one of each in front of Susan, "Go ahead eat up, and here have some tea. Glen stop looking all big and scary, don't you have something else to do other than intimidate her?"

The centaur, Glen, looked mildly annoyed with Rosetta, "My errand was to see to her thank you. And my name is not Glen, it would be appreciated if you could remember this. Now," he bowed just a touch to Susan, who was trying rather unsuccessfully to stop staring (it was just kind of hard not to really all things considered), "I was sent to ask if there was anything you required."

"Um," thinking then smiling, she shook her head, "I'm well thank you. The fresh air's just too lovely and I have everything I need. Thank you."

"Then if you do not mind, I shall take my leave Daughter of Eve," and he smiled that gentle knowing smile, and left.

"Oh he's such a show off, what a bully," Rosetta grumped.

Susan eyed her oddly, "He seemed wonderful to me."

"Really? Well Glenstorm is a bit uptight for me," shrugging. "He's Caspian's second in command you know. Just for future reference."

"Why would he come and ask me if I needed anything?" confused, bundling up the arrows in batches of forty like she'd been shown.

"I think it may have been his peace offering," not saying Caspian's name, not wanting to broadcast how poorly she'd been treated at his hands.

Shaking her head, "Oh well then I should've told him I needed a giant paddle and some access to that asshole so I could give him a piece of my mind!"

Rosetta was laughing until she realized that Susan was truly serious. Then she stopped leaning forward, laying her hand atop Susan's, "I understand how you feel m'lady, but you must be careful where you say such things. For as awful as things have been for you, he has been so much more than good to us, and we're all grateful to him. So just, use caution, that's all, okay?"

"I still vote for having a crack at him," sighing and nodding, "but I understand."

* * *

It was hard to keep thinking of the room as just Caspian's, she hadn't seen him in days other than the occasional glimpse of him watching from afar. The papers had yet to be removed from the desk though, so Susan figured he must be coming back whenever she wasn't there. Either that or he was totally neglecting his people, and from what she'd learned over the last bit that that was highly unlikely. Combing her fingers through her hair, Susan went over to them, and started where she'd left off before Caspian had flipped out. Maybe she could help keep notes or something, because while she may want to go home, there was a peaceful sense of accomplishment to be had here.

Well, so long as she could continue to avoid Caspian.

At some point she'd lost track of the days, but as she went over Caspian's missives and lists of supplies and tactics she realized that she'd been here for almost a month. And that it'd been close to a week since she'd been in his presence. Which was all to the good in her mind, even though she found herself wondering where he was often. Mostly so she could avoid the area like it had the plague. That didn't stop her from wanting to help him, because helping him meant helping the Narnians. And helping the Narnians meant helping Rosetta, and Jiroon the Tiger, Jumbletot and Hitastik, and of course Glenstorm. She wouldn't go so far to say that they were her friends, well Rosetta was, but they made her feel welcome despite the fact that she was always under guard. They had been little but kind to her, and they had obviously had hard lives because of the Telmarines.

She wanted to fix that. To repay their kindness in any small way she could. So that meant she'd suck it up and help Caspian with these stupid papers if she had to. Checking the inkwell and trimming a quill clumsily, Susan set to work.

Muttering, "Firstly... plans of.. huh. That's interesting," and she scratched her chin in thought. There were details for a battle plan that had already been used.

Picking up the paper, Susan started to draw up visual dots on her piece of paper trying to formulate how the attack had gone. Some of it seemed strange and silly, causing Susan to wrack her brain for history lessons. Inspiration came when she remembered the tactics some of the Huns had used, and with a bit of tweaking some of them could be used for much smaller groups.

Frantically she worked for several hours, waving off Rosetta when she came to ask if she wanted to go for their evening stroll. She fell asleep, her cheek pressed into the wood of the table, a pile of papers and plans, and distribution suggestions by her elbow. Her love of history may prove of some value after all - despite what her brothers thought of it, because she knew something of tactics, and Caspian could use all the extra ideas he could get.

A curse woke her, and Susan sat bolt upright, looking around, eyes wide and scared. Caspian's back was to her, and he was carrying a huge chest with the help of Hitastik, until the prince waved the dwarf off.

"I am fine, I can move it from here," nodding to him. "Thank you for the assistance, why not go rest for a bit?"

Susan stayed frozen, fearing what would happen - Caspian would turn around and see her there at his table obviously having gone over his things. It would've been fine if she wasn't here, he'd take a look and see what she'd been doing, but all he'd see if he saw here there was a potential spy. Shaking, Susan started to inch from her place, praying he wouldn't notice her.

Unfortunately she was so scared, so nervous that her legs tangled with her chair, and she fell over, earning a few new bruises.

Caspian spun with a startled sound, "What?!"

Balling up, covering her head with her arms, "I was helping don't hit me! Please... please don't! I wasn't doing anything wrong... I swear!"

The silence stretched for minutes that felt like hours.

"You were supposed to be outside," it snapped through the air.

Wincing Susan, peeked up, just enough to see him standing there, staring at her, "No one came and got me."

Curling up tighter, Susan tried to relax simultaneously, expecting heavy blows and kicks as he strode over to her quickly. But none came, and he didn't speak for several minutes, but the gentle susurrations of paper on paper, followed by a grunt every now and again. Finally, "Interesting. Who are Attila and Caesar?"

Face still pressed into the floor almost, "Great generals of their times."

"And how do you know tactics?"

"I just know what I read, I just... wanted to help the Narnians," checking his face, and saw that it was neutral, no frown on it at all, so she felt comfortable enough to sit up and scoot away from him some. "From what I read you've been using the same set of strategies alot, eventually Miraz will catch on and counteract them. So, I thought I could give you a few ideas. That's all."

He nodded and put the papers down, then went back over to the chest that had been dragged in. With a bit of pushing he got it closer to the wall near the pallet, and she noticed that his hair was wet, and he actually looked pretty clean. Once he was satisfied with where it was, he squatted and set to work on the lock on it, cursing when the key he had didn't work. From his boot he pulled out a small fold of black cloth and several tools from that. Susan thought it odd, what kind of prince would know how to pick locks? A loud click and the padlock on it snapped open. Chinking as Caspian removed it, tossing it towards the door for later retrieval.

All the while Susan didn't utter a word, not wanting to provoke him. Even if she did want to give him a piece of her mind, even though she wanted to tell him exactly what kind of monster he was. Because that's what he was, even though most leaders were like that. Any of the greats from ancient times up until her time, Susan knew well enough from history that no matter how good a leader was, no matter how wise - often behind closed doors they were harsh, unyielding, cruel bastards. It was almost like the two things went hand in hand. Except for Gandhi, Susan couldn't remember reading about any kind of man in power who wielded it well and didn't exert it into his daily life interactions. But Gandhi was current, and what she'd read in the papers suggested that he was truly all that he seemed. But Caspian was more like any mortal man with power, he had an ability to abuse it.

When the lid was flung open, Caspian righted his chair, and waved at the trunk, "Find something to wear."

"I'm already clothed thank you," unable to keep herself from snapping.

"Yes, in my spare clothes," nodding. Then he pointed at the chest once more, even as he leaned his back against the edge of the table, elbows resting on the top, "Pick something blue."

"Why?" even as she got up and went over to it. The chest was overflowing with all sorts of colourful materials, of varying shapes and sizes.

"Because I told you to," it came out lazily.

Turning to look at him, her blue eyes narrowed, locking with his, "And you think I'm just going to do something because you told me to. You really aren't too bright. If I'm going to wear any of this, which I doubt, I'm quite comfortable as is thank you, I'll pick it myself dammit. "

Caspian crossed his legs, his gaze steady, "You shall do as I say. Or I will cease allowing you time outdoors."

Oh he knew how to strike a low blow. Gritting her teeth, Susan knelt, back to him, and dug around. Not a single thing looked decent to wear, all of it was in pieces, a top here that would show off too much cleavage or her stomach, a dress there that was near sheer, and nightgowns. Lots of those in all every hue imaginable. And something that she wasn't sure of, but may be a torture device disguised as a girdle.

Growling at him, "No. I'm not going to dress up as some slut for you to ogle. Haven't you taken enough from me already?"

"Then I shall take more, for you have not learned your lesson obviously," his voice hardened. Caspian's sword was whipped from its sheath, a difficult motion when one was seated she'd think, but he managed it gracefully, and he leveled it at her, "Strip."

Susan gritted her teeth knowing he'd follow up on the unvoiced threat. Clenching her eyes shut, Susan kicked off the shoes that Rosetta had found for her, then started yanking her pants down.

"Slower," cold steel touched her hand, the flat of the blade resting there in warning. "And turn towards me, open your eyes."

That was just too much, but she could feel how sharp his sword was, and she had no doubt he'd do something highly unpleasant to her if she didn't do as he said. It took a sheer effort of will but Susan opened her eyes, not looking at him, but at some point over his shoulder, her hands sliding the worn suede of her borrowed pants down her legs. Folding the material up, Susan set it aside, hoping that the shirt she wore was really long enough to cover her even if just for a little while longer. Caspian lifted the hem up with the tip of his weapon, and Susan wanted nothing more than to take it from him and hit him a few times with it. His head was cocked, and he looked flushed, but seemed content to just sit there for now. Praying he wouldn't want anything else, Susan started to take the tunic off, going very slow, not to entice him but because she didn't wish to be nude before him. Licking his lips, Caspian just stared at her, as she was exposed before his eyes. Too bad he wouldn't find the bruises all over her unattractive, she'd found out enough about Telmarine customs to know that.

Frankly it all disgusted her.

"Now, pick something blue," his voice was low and roughened about the edges, husky, "or you can just stay like you are now."

It was always cool in his room, Susan had yet to figure out why, and the idea of staying naked was unappealing for that reason as well as because she didn't want to have him staring at her like this. Chewing her mostly healed lip, Susan bent over and rummaged once more for something. Taking out all the blue things, she picked the one that would cover the most. Scowling at it, Susan moved it this way and that trying to figure out how to get it on and which part went were.

"Not that one," sword flashing and yanking it delicately from her grasp.

"Then fine, you fucking pick, I'm not playing your game," crossing her arms, Susan turned her back on him.

A chuckle, and she felt him standing behind her, heat radiating from him. His hand landed on her waist, dragging her close to him, turning her around, "That one is for winter, you will be too hot if you wear it."

Snorting at him, "Winter? Riiight. That thing covers so little even a whore would feel exposed."

"Hmph, you do not know how to wear it then," his long hand pressed her lower back, forcing her to stand flush with him. Leaning down, "Stop covering your breasts."

Flushing in thwarted rage, Susan uncrossed her arms, the metal of his studded jerkin cold on her skin, "Whatever. You should just pick, you'll do so anyway in the end."

His hand dipped into the trunk pulling out several items, "You put this on first, then you put on the petticoat, then the corset, did your mother never teach you these things?"

"No, we're civilized enough to just make better more practical things than that," poking at the clothes in his hand.

"Intriguing, maybe I shall have you tell me about it later," Caspian's voice was uncharacteristically soft despite the ragged timbre.

Grip loosening, Caspian took a step back from her, still crowding her personal space. Taking the flimsy lavender nightgown thing from him, Susan yanked it on impatiently. Next the mint green petticoat, but the corset, Susan really wasn't sure how to work that. Holding it between the thumb and forefinger of each hand she eyed it like it was some poisonous thing about to kill her. Sighing, "I don't know how to work this thing, so I guess I don't have to wear it."

Before she could drop it back into the trunk, Caspian halted her, "Then allow me."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," spreading her arms out.

"Not like that, grab hold of the table, it should be sturdy enough."

"What?" becoming alarmed.

Shaking his head, lips quirked in an odd grin that made him appear boyishly mischievous - almost... attractive, "Just trust me."

A muscle tensed in her jaw as she complied, whispering, "I'll never make that mistake, I wasn't born yesterday."

If he heard her, Caspian disregarded the statement, his arms going about her front, pressing the device to her chest. Firm tugs on the laces once he got them re-threaded, and then he jerked on them, causing Susan to stumble back into his chest. She hadn't been expecting the sudden motion.

"You have to hold tighter to the table, bend over more as well," his face was buried in her hair, before she jerked away from him.

Doing as he said, Susan got a firmer hold, "Now you tell me."

Caspian's hands moved slowly and firmly over her back, getting her cinched in, and as he neared the top of the laces, Caspian curled over her back, and she could feel his breath on the her neck, "Is it tight enough?"

"How should I know?" whispering, not comfortable, not comfortable at all, he always unsettled her, and with him up against her like this Susan just wanted to flee. It got worse as he moved in closer, and she could feel his groin pushing into her bottom. He was certainly enjoying this overmuch, the thought terrifying her, yet she felt oddly warm by it. His actions were much slower, less violent, so if he forced her she felt that maybe it may not be such a frightful experience as last time.

Lips pressed at her nape, face nuzzling in the hair there, "If you can breathe still that should be fine I suppose. I do not wish for you to be squeezed in as many women are, your waist is trim enough. But," then she could feel him tying off the laces, and his hands moved around to her breasts, adjusting them to her disgust, "the effect on your chest will be dazzling I am sure." Molding her tits in his hands, Susan quivered, feeling filthy for the fact that he wasn't scaring her. With a tweak to one of her now erect nipples, "I hope you like the gifts; I had to go to an inordinate amount of trouble to procure them for you."

Swallowing the acidic taste in her mouth, hoping to make it go away, "And I'm supposed to be grateful."

"You should be, yes," coarse textured fingers moved her hair to her opposite shoulder, and the underdress didn't really cover the skin there much, so she felt every touch. An open mouthed kiss, his hands on her hips now, holding her to him, "I find.. myself infected by craving." Deep inhale behind her ear, "That is a dangerous thing for a man to feel. Women make men want to do things," his voice was barely audible. "To give them things. And in return women take these gifts, and make a man weak. I avoided you for days, it feels like forever," the flat of his teeth pushed into her skin, "you make me tread a perilous path woman. So yes, you should be very grateful," Susan kept herself stock still, unsure of what he was talking about, he sounded a madman to her, "I am diseased. I am weak. I bring you gifts when I should bring you nothing. I help you - when if you can't help yourself, you don't deserve a thing... Yet... I do it. I am unable to stop myself. I am sick..."

Her voice was gentle, she hadn't intended on it coming out that way, "What you call a disease, most would call humanity."

"Humanity is for peasants. In a lord, in a King - it serves no purpose but to be taken advantage of. Weakness is death." Sucking as Caspian's mouth clamped over the partially healed bite wound on her shoulder, his hips rubbing against her, and Susan could feel the hardness trapped there.

"Yet you still live, so you must not have as much humanity as you think if they haven't killed you yet," because it seemed to be what he needed to hear.

Caspian turned them around, so he could sit on the chair, her standing, back to him still, "Let me tell you of my mother. She is why I bear this taint already that you can so easily exploit." His arms came around her, pulling Susan into his lap, hands rubbing over her chest and abdomen, "My father was bound by law and tradition to kill my mother for having lain with another man. With.. his bare hands. In front of all the male children of the Lords. I was seven," cheek moving back and forth over her shoulder where the shift didn't cover it, something wet there that wasn't from his mouth. "And so I watched because it was expected of me, while my father beat her to death before us all. Bloody fists landing again and again on her." More wetness, and his breath was hitching, though Susan could tell he was trying to hide this from her, "But.. because it was law, and custom, the son of such a tainted woman had to... had to show that he rejected her. That he was strong enough and not weak, not tainted or diseased." Her hands curled over his, clutching at his fingers, her stomach sinking as she realized what he was going to say, "So the death blows were to be delivered by me."

"What," choking and she wiggled in his arms until she could turn, standing and holding his face pressed into her stomach, "what happened?"

"I crushed her throat, because before the execution she told me that I must, to stay safe, that I must do this thing for her," Caspian clung to her, and Susan wondered why he was even telling her these things. It was as though he were unable to help himself.

Stroking his shoulder and neck, Susan mumbled nothing in particular, trying to sooth his anguish. His people were barbarians, and he was struggling just as Rosetta had said, with what he had been taught by his people and his own nature. Pity and pain warred within herself for him against her wishes. Caspian had done the best he could with her, and each thing he did for her put heavy demands on his morals. Dropping a kiss to the crown of his head as though he were a small child she were comforting, Susan rocked side to side.

"My father, years later, when I was fifteen, he summoned me to his study," rolling his face to the side, he stared off into the distance, seeing that memory. "He told me of this dreadful disease called 'love'. It is the worst curse a man can ever have, it destroys you. That it makes men weak because they live for the other person. He said 'The King must not have weakness. I have yet to take another woman as mine. And I find myself pining for her. I have that most horrid and deadly of diseases my son - I have love. And because I love you, and because I loved your mother - you must kill me. Do it, prove to the Lords and Council that you do not bear either of your parents evils. Do it so that you may live my son.'" Caspian laughed bitterly, "So I killed him. Because I loved him. And because he loved me, I let him protect me."

Holding him tight - what else could she do under such an onslaught? - Susan mourned for the little boy, and for the youth, and for the man before her. There was so much potential there, she'd sensed it gradually, and now the puzzle pieces were falling into place. Her hand touched the lower part of his neck, where the edges of the massive amount of scar tissue lay matted, causing Susan to wish to take his hurts from him. Even though now as a man he was horrid so much of the time, he still tried, and he deserved to have less pain. No one should go through what he went through.

Groaning into her, Susan could feel the effort he made to pull away finally, "Now put on the dress of your choice, just make it blue."

Slipping from the circle of his arms, Susan ran to the trunk, and struggled to get a dress on, staring at him as he turned his back, where he stayed bent over the table, a white knuckle grip on the wood. The ties were crooked but it'd have to do, and Susan backed further from him, as far from him and the bed as she could get because now she didn't know what he'd do. She'd seen his weakness, and he may view that as dangerous to him, but he may not. Caspian gradually turned around, having collected himself, and he looked her up and down with a nod.

Beckoning her back, "Come."

Not sure as to why she obeyed, Susan had to gather the skirts up not used to their bulk, her bare feet slapping on the floor, "What now?"

"This," his hand reached up, pulling her face to his, Caspian's mouth moving over hers. The action was desperate, a plea for just a bit more comfort. Accepting it despite the urge to smack him, Susan let him do it so maybe he'd hurt a little less. Susan was the first to break from it, breathless, and he let her, not looking at her at all.

Calm once more Caspian gathered up his spare clothes and left.

Before he closed the door a final admonishment, "Dress that way from now on."


	4. Chapter 4

Caspian swung atop Destrier, situating himself with practiced ease. It was a little past noon - Susan would have been outside for awhile. Nudging Destrier into a light trot heading back from checking over one of the secondary camps to the How. It'd become a daily occurrence since the first time. Allowing Destrier his head, the horse knew his master well enough to know what time it was and where to go. Out of sheer curiosity, and to make sure she wasn't squandering the privilege he was allowing her, Caspian had watched from a ways away when Susan had gone outside. The happy laugh she let out had carried on the wind, curling around in his head like drug laden music.

Her happiness each day had yet to slacken, for whenever the sun would hit her face, Susan would dance about, laughing before veritably skipping to do whatever task had been set at the table. Yet another concession Caspian had made for her, setting easy things for her to do outside so she wouldn't be bored. He hadn't figured out why he was bothering doing these things, but he couldn't stop. Not only that but Glenstorm had been encouraging him to incorporate her into the workforce for some reason. Reigning Destrier in lightly, the large courser kicking up a few clods of dirt as Caspian searched for her. The day was balmy, fall would be coming soon, maybe another month. Rubbing his forehead, the ever present headache that he'd had for the last week and a half was making his eyes hurt, the inner struggle Caspian had was agonizing, just trying to keep control on his various urges. Self control had been slipping, it was why he'd mostly avoided Susan since the incident where he'd dressed her. Except for dinner, where they'd sit silently as they ate, her gaze only focused on the food before her, Caspian was near never in her presence. But sometimes at night when he couldn't sleep, Caspian would slip from his pallet and go into her room and watch her rest for a few minutes. She looked soft and small buried under a few blankets, with his cloak wrapped up around her too. Well it was hers more than his now, he'd long replaced it. Raking his fingers through his hair, then scratching his neck momentarily, Caspian tried to get the image of her large eyes closed peacefully, long hair loose and sometimes tangled over her cheeks, out of his head.

With a frown Caspian realized he didn't see the flower bright colours of Susan's dress. Destrier sidled between his thighs, sensing his rider's unease. Growling, Caspian kicked his steed sending them bolting around the area where Susan was supposed to be. Angry, why wasn't she out there? Didn't she know he wanted to watch as she was happy? His grip on the reins was harsh, and he was clenching his thighs on Destrier's barrel, canvassing the area, Caspian came upon the archer stands where a handful of his people were practicing. And there, jewel toned blue and purple fluttering skirts. Calming his ragged breathing, Caspian watched for a moment.

Smoothly Susan knocked an arrow, not even sighting along it and let loose. The thrum of the string filled the air, then a series of amazed laughs and not a few curses as the arrow landed dead center. Swiftly Susan made a tight circle around the first where it quivered many yards away on the furthest target. Momentarily Caspian was awed, he'd never seen anyone shoot so far, so fast, and so accurately.

She turned and clapped her hands blushing in delight, skipping about in place holding Jumbletot's hands, "Oh look I did it! I thought I'd have forgotten how!"

"Well you certainly did, and now I owe Hitastik a pouch of tobacc. Eh the things I do. I should've known you could do it," the dwarf was laughing.

It was hard not to stare at Susan, she was like a foal gamboling around and then she picked her bow back up, and took different kinds of shots after the daring of her dwarven companions. Everything she aimed at was hit perfectly. Caspian had a slow simmering rage at all this though, women were not supposed to wield weapons. Despite the fact he had to acknowledge she was quite good. Destrier was fidgeting beneath him, side stepping and snorting periodically at Caspian's heavy handedness. Something so unladylike was unacceptable, and Caspian's eyes slammed closed, the ever present strain on his control crackling. One half of him just wanted to stay and watch, the other wished to show her his displeasure at her actions and how unacceptable they were. To remind her of her place as a woman, as something light and pretty to exist for his pleasure, to brighten his dark day.

Opening his eyes after taking steadying breaths, Caspian realized that her laughter had stopped and that she was staring at him across the field. No one seemed to notice, they were busy putting shafts into the targets, brushing up their own skills. A breeze came up, and Susan pushed some of her hair from her face, her other hand clutching her skirt. Shifting, Caspian leaned his crossed forearms on the saddle horn, waiting for something of which he wasn't sure. Turning away from him, Susan went about ignoring him. Or pissing him off - he wasn't sure which it was.

Bow practically leaping into her hand, fresh arrows were shot. Shafts flew in a rapid rain, Susan's back straight, and she grabbed up all the arrows around her.

"Oh m'lady what's got you in a tizzy?" Rosetta's voice was quiet, but the wind was favorable, and Caspian could clearly hear her.

"Nothing at all Rosetta," frosty cold.

Jumbletot and Hitkastik had wandered off to get more arrows for their practice, and the two females were alone but for Caspian who was bringing Destrier closer and closer to them. The small red dwarf still hadn't noticed his presence, which didn't bother him one bit.

"Su, you were doing just fine a moment ago," hands went to hips. "Now what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just need to concentrate, there's a stench upon the wind, it's mucking up my shots," everything about her was rigid.

Taking a moment to drink in the grace she used to shoot, and how well the clothes that he'd gotten for her complimented her form, Caspian indulged for just a few seconds longer, knowing that once he was close enough, once he spoke, his control would be non-existent. Let Susan have fun for just a bit longer, a bit longer so he could etch the memory into his mind, because he would not allow her this freedom again for a long time. If ever. She'd broken an unspoken rule, one he hadn't thought to tell her, because what sane woman would have the gall to pick up arms? He should have known though that Susan wasn't like that, and that once she'd figured out how lenient he was, that she'd do something so absurd and disgusting. Susan's motions were still poetry, like it was some delicate dance that the courtiers and Lords practiced while picking out new women.

"Oh! Your Highness!" Rosetta gave a little start as she turned around looking for whatever had caused her charge's ire. Colour flushed and drained from the dwarf's cheeks as she curtsied, "Is there something I can help you with?"

Holding his hand up, Caspian shook his head, still observing Susan. After he'd brought her the clothes, part of him had foolishly thought she'd soften towards him, and maybe she had to a degree. She no longer yelled and insulted him at all, in fact she never spoke unless spoken to. That was well, because that was how a woman should be. Except for the fact that it wasn't out of meekness or understanding her place, but seemed to be more from a desire to not even register his presence. To a great degree it was obvious she'd accepted her incarceration, which was good, but there was a strong undercurrent still of resistance.

When Susan's quiver was empty, in firm dismissal, "Rosetta, go ahead and collect the arrows."

Susan's shoulders tensed, and Caspian didn't miss the fearful glance from himself back to her that Rosetta gave them. But she curtsied and did as she was told without complaint.

"What do you want?"

Bringing Destrier closer to her, Caspian held out his hand, kicking a foot fee of a stirrup, "Leave the bow, give me your hand."

For a moment he thought she'd tell him off, then with a gusty sigh obeyed him. She stared at his hand, nose wrinkling then grasped it, and he waited for her to put her foot in the stirrup.

Rolling her eyes at him, "Are we going to stay like this all day? Or are you going to drag me up?"

Clenching his teeth, "Put your foot in the stirrup, and tug against me as I pull you up, keep your arm tight," directing her in something that should be simple. She did as he said, though she was clumsy and almost slid off Destrier's rump. Grumbling, "Stop being so damnably difficult or I'll throw you over my legs instead."

"Well sorry," huffing as she got situated, her arms going around his waist with obvious reluctance, "but some of us here don't know how to ride. At all. The closest I've been to a horse is the centaurs and it's not like they offer free rides."

Grunting at that admission, Caspian spurred Destrier the rest of the way back to the How. Susan yelped when the fine steed leapt forward, arms squeezing him hard, her face being buried between his shoulders. The proximity was disconcerting, Susan in general was disconcerting for how she made his head ache, his thoughts race and wars start and end in his mind. Entering the section marked off as a stable for Destrier inside the How, Caspian jumped from his horse quickly. His hand clamped down on Susan's arm, yanking her down after him, and he didn't bother steadying her when she stumbled.

"What's your problem?" she dug in her heels.

Rumbling, "Come along. Now."

Through the halls, Caspian dragged her along, with her jogging to keep up with his much longer stride. He didn't care. It was time to show her her place, to remind her who was in control, and whose mercy she had to beg for. There were rules and regulations to her continued life here, and she would obey them no matter what. And she'd respect him for his clemency and kindness. His hand was like a vise, and he swung her through the door to their room, tossing her towards the table and chair.

Commanding, "Sit."

Shivering, yet drawing herself up, Susan glared, "I'm not a dog for you to order about."  
Locking the door, Caspian stalked towards her, "No, you are less than a dog. You are a woman, and you are a captive."

"You.. dare," cerulean eyes narrowing and Susan closed the rest of the space between them, head tipped back as she snapped while poking a finger in the center of his chest, "you dare to think me some toy? Well newsflash - I'm not! I'm a person! I may be stuck here, and you may be the big man in charge, but I still have rights."

Grabbing her by the shoulders, yanking her close to him, his face thrust into hers, "You have only the rights that I allow you! And you have overstepped your bounds greatly. A woman does not bear arms ever!"

"Is that what this is about?" incredulous. "Rosetta does! And so do many others, are you going to tell me that you're going to go out there and tell them that you're going to waste half your army just because you've got some dumb antiquated notion that women don't fight?" Shaking her head, even as Caspian kept her pressed up against him, "You've got to be the biggest imbecile I've ever had the misfortune of meeting!"

Brow furrowing, baring his teeth at her, "They are Narnians, and you are not. A Telmarine woman's place does not permit such things!"

"I'm not Telmarine!" struggling in his arms. "And I'll never be one of those stupid bar-" she stopped herself before uttering it, but it didn't matter. The damage was done.

Caspian thrust his hand into her hair, yanking her head back far, "You are what I say you are. And you will act as befits your status." Even though Caspian wasn't sure what her status was, he sailed on blithely, "You will learn to hold that vicious tongue of yours, and you will do as I say when I say it, you will learn your place, and you will accept the fact that it is I who holds your life in my hands at all times!"

Beginning to lift the skirt of her dress with one hand, Caspian backed her towards the table, only stopping once the edge of it dug mercilessly into her hips. Leaning down, he captured Susan's lips in his, demanding her acquiescence. Susan just tried to move away from him, her hands pushing at her skirts trying to free them from his grip. Hoisting her up onto the table, Caspian hooked his foot for the chair, pulling it closer, all the while his mouth plundering hers once he'd finally forced it open. Breathing heavily through his nose, his blood pounding in his veins, limbs shaking in roiling anger and lust. Need had been nagging at him since he'd first taken her, and he'd resisted. Now that appeared to have been an unwise decision. If he'd been consistently firm with her, maybe she wouldn't have done something so abhorrent, maybe Susan would have already learned what was not acceptable. He wouldn't hurt her this time, he wouldn't let his control snap, Caspian had to prove that he wasn't just in control of his army, of himself, but of her. In all ways.

[REDACTED FOR COMPLIANCE OF FFN POLICY. Archive of Our Own contains the full chapter, unedited.]

Satisfied that he'd done what was necessary, Caspian stepped away from her, and redressed with quick economical motions. He owned her, and now she knew it. Which was as it should be.

XXX

Caspian watched Susan, something he'd finally noticed he'd been doing excessively, but by now he couldn't stop himself. She made the pain in his head less, and if he just gave into the urge to observe her or be near her, the growling beasts of his morals would quiet. Eating his food, Caspian frowned at Susan who sat across from him. Barely any of it had been consumed, a trend that had been increasing in the last week since he'd taken her outdoor privileges away. At first he thought things would be better now that he took her daily, and they were somewhat, she never fought him at all. But she never touched him either, which annoyed him for some reason. Not only that but it was becoming apparent that Susan was starving herself. Rosetta had reported that she'd not eat the breakfasts brought to her nor the lunches.

Gesturing at her plate, "Eat."

"I'm not hungry," poking at the fine cut of meat.

"Most of the troops would be thankful to have that," shoving another bite into his own mouth.

"Then maybe it should be given to them instead," sighing, she pushed it away, then crossed her arms on the table, laying her head atop her arms, "it's only going to waste being brought to me."

Caspian stared trying to figure out what was wrong, but he didn't know how to ask without sounding weak. Settling on his usual methods, "I told you to eat. So eat."

To his surprise, after all the last while she'd done everything he'd told her to, Susan got up from the table and took her outer things off, laying them gently on the trunk, then flopped on the pallet, "I'm tired. When you're done you can wake me if you want me. Otherwise, I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow."

Blinking in shock, Caspian felt a flash of anger that he clamped down on. He'd figured out at some point that using a bit of sugar to counter her vinegar was the the best way to get things done. Grabbing Susan's plate, Caspian went over to the pallet and sat next to her, balancing it upon his knee.

"I have been told you have not been eating," it came out harder than intended, but it was difficult to act contrary to what he was used to, even though he knew it was the fastest way with her.

"Because I'm not hungry," scooting away from him as she rolled so her back was to him.

Muscle ticking in his jaw, "Why are you not hungry, tell me that."

"Because," covering her head with his cloak, and that was another something he just didn't understand why she kept using it despite the nicer ones that graced the bed.

"If you will not eat, then I shall order no more stores wasted on you then," getting up and leaving the plate next to her. "Eat that or starve. It will not matter to me."

There was a tiny growl from behind him, and Caspian turned around in time to get a face full of food. Utterly stupefied, Caspian just looked at her, mouth agape as Susan brought herself up to her inconsiderable height, stomping her delicate little foot, "You're just a big bully. You are! You get off on power!" She stomped up to him, as he just blinked down at her rapidly, "I don't want to have sex with you at all, and you force me! You even..." her breath hitched for a moment then she forged ahead, "you even leave me no choice but to like it! You pick my clothes, you pick how I have my hair, you decide whether I get to live or die, you get to decide if I can go outside, you decide when I bathe! Next you'll be telling me when I can go to the privy! You -" Susan shoved him, making Caspian stumble, "you are a monster! You're no good, you're worthless and you just... just... you're right - you are weak! Because you're fucking Telmarine, not because you have any of your mother's humanity! Or your fathers! You have less goodness to you than a damn den of murderers and thieves. Because at least they're upfront with their evils." Her hand lashed out smacking him, and Caspian could do no more than just stand there and take it, no one had ever dared to speak to him thusly. It was even worse than the first few times she'd yelled at him, then it'd just been creative and slightly funny, this? This was serious, "If you want to stick it in me then it'll be a corpse you're fucking! If you want to have fun with your power - then tough shit, because I'm not playing anymore."

When she made a grab for his belt knife, he didn't think to stop her. At least not until she had it out and was turning it on her own neck, then Caspian smacked it free of her hand. Shaking her by the shoulders, "What do you think you are doing? Huh? Do I treat you so badly that - that..."

"I hate you," it was whispered, "I thought there was truth to what they've been constantly telling me, that you have good to you... and... and after you told me about," struggling, kicking at his shins, "about what happened to you that maybe, just maybe." Then she started to cry, tears of either anger or anguish, Caspian couldn't tell, "Maybe you were someone who just needed a friend, but you... you... you're awful. Just awful, all the time! Not just some of the time - all of it. You don't care about anyone or anything, not even yourself! You treat me like some doll to pose about and make do whatever you please. But that's not me, it's not me at all Caspian. Not just that - oh Caspian what about the Narnians? You're supposed to be their leader! The Narnians are in the hands of someone who doesn't care about them, and I hate you for that..."

Caspian shuddered, "I do care about them. They are my -"

"Only because you view them as possessions! They're people Caspian! People! They deserve respect! And... and so do I!"

The things she was saying were tearing and clawing in his brain, making him feel sick. He needed to keep her still, he couldn't have her hurting herself or attacking him right now. Caspian needed to think, needed to stop the cacophony in his head. Whirling her around in his arms, so her back was to his chest, Caspian buried his face in her neck, panting.

"Tell me what any of this has to do with you not eating? Why would it make you try to kill yourself? What if I had not stopped you? Would you have done it?" his arms flexed, crushing her.

Susan went limp, "Yes I would've done it. Seeing the trainwreck about to happen and not being able to do anything about it, yes Caspian, I'd rather be dead."

"Trainwreck?" confused by the word, its meaning could change what her words implied depending on what it was.

"Nevermind Caspian," she was sighing, pushing at his hands with hers, "as usual you've won, and I'll do whatever the hell it is you ask of me. After all I'm just a pretty bauble." Susan glanced at him once, and he couldn't figure out what the look meant, "You'll never figure it out, will you? People aren't tools, we have needs, and so do you." Shaking her head, she just stayed in his arms, limp, and staring off into some unknown vista.

Caspian was lost, he had no clue what any of this was about. His Telmarine training didn't prepare him for this, and in that moment he did figure something out. Susan wasn't a Telmarine at all and never would be. Because not even the most willful of women would be like this. After being put in her place a few times a woman would know her boundaries and just be content to live that way. But Susan? She was not ever going to be fully predictable like that. All that left him was his weakness, that thing she said was a strength. Maybe he needed to listen to that more to figure her out.

Swallowing, "Tomorrow you may go outside if you wish."

She shrugged, "I suppose that's how you'd fix things."

"What do you want from me?" whispering into Susan's ear, searching, confused, lost at sea. And helpless, Caspian had never felt quite so helpless before except when dealing with her. He didn't like it, but couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop alot of things when it came to Susan.

"Nothing Caspian, absolutely nothing," how she said it made him feel ashamed.

It was a disgusting sick twisting feeling in his chest and belly, it made his skin flaming hot and his eyes itch. Much like when he'd first taken her, that's how he felt, but there was no anger or horror to cover it up with. Just the raw nauseous sensation that made him want to spit to fee his mouth of the taste. Shaking, Caspian clutched Susan, swaying side to side as he held her. As usual Susan didn't touch him, just let him do the touching. Maybe if she had Caspian thought it may ease the way he felt. But she didn't.

Caspian almost let her go, but decided against it, swinging her into his arms, he carried her to the bed, laying her down. Susan didn't react, just looked away from him, every inch the doll she'd described herself as. Using his sleeve Caspian wiped off his face then shucked his shirt, not entirely sure of what he was going to do. Was he going to take her? He just didn't know. Kicking off his boots, Caspian knew that he never ever knew what he was really going to do when it came to her. She was an utter enigma, something so far outside the box Caspian was lost, and she was the cause of it all, but she was also the way out.

Wrapping his arms around her, gathering Susan close, "Tell me what I must do to get you to eat." Struggling he added a word he never said, "Please."

"Nothing Caspian, like I said. Nothing," she sighed, eyes slipping closed as she visibly waited for whatever he was going to do, "I'll eat something tomorrow. Happy now?" When he didn't say anything, Susan opened her eyes, pinning him with those glorious sapphires, a small frown on her lips, creasing her brow, "Well? Aren't you going to get to it?"

Ducking his head, Caspian found himself kissing her desperately, begging her to respond more than just with an open mouth. Susan didn't, merely allowing him what he could take, and dissatisfied Caspian left off. He wanted her to participate without him fogging her mind with her body's needs. Rolling onto his back, dragging her with him, Caspian just stared at the ceiling. Normally he'd take what he wanted, reinforce the knowledge in her mind that she belonged to him, and leave. Tonight he'd stay, reassure himself that she wouldn't try and escape in such a horrid manner. And maybe when he woke up she'd be touching him on her own. Maybe.


	5. Chapter 5

Fall had arrived, and Caspian wasn't worried much. Campaign season was over, and unless Miraz wanted a rebellion in the Council of Lords he wouldn't push to maintain the battle lines for more than another month at most. Surely the peasants were hurting badly, which worried him distantly. At least the Narnian stores were well filled, he'd seen to that. Rubbing his chin Caspian leaned back on the tree trunk watching Susan. It'd become a pastime he was willing to admit to enjoying, if only to himself.

It had taken a month but things were smoothed over once more, and after having sought advice from Glenstorm, Caspian had finally given into her desire to use the bow. He was worried over that, what if it got out that his mistress was a fighter? After he regained his throne - for he couldn't let himself think that he wouldn't, he'd lose hope otherwise - and if it was known that Susan bore arms, even if only as entertainment. Well. The laws were clear, and the death wouldn't be easy, it'd be even worse than what was demanded for an adulterous wife. And he didn't want to see her bent over a block in the castle square, ready to be mounted by any and all males who wished to have a go at her. Nor did he want to see her skin flayed in long thin strips as she was rubbed with salt. Just the thought of either things made him sweat. So he'd do all in his power to keep that from being known.

Shifting, the leaves beneath his butt rustling, he'd compromised. Only when she was with him, no other witnesses but for a few Eagles who kept watch, was she allowed to play like this. Of course Susan still helped out, making arrows, cleaning armour, sharpening blades, and was free to walk about the How at her leisure. The Narnians adored her Caspian had heard enough whispers telling him this, and from Glenstorm's mate directly. This was good, because her presence brightened everything; she was so alive in everything she did, cheering everyone she came in contact with. Except she never talked to him unless it was to tell him something pertaining to the troops morale. Or if he asked her a direct question. Mostly she just ignored him, but Caspian was content with this.

For now.

By his side he had a gift for her, something that he'd had one of the satyrs so inclined to make just to fit Susan. He'd yet to tell her of it, and while Susan had eyed the bundle with mild curiosity she hadn't brought it up. When her quiver was empty and she was retrieving all her arrows, Caspian got up, brushing himself free of dirt.

In his typical fashion, "I do not like that bow."

"Of course you don't, I'm using it, so it offends your delicate sensibilities," snorting, sighting along the shaft and straightening some of the feathers.

"True," shrugging, "but it is meant for someone with shorter arms than yourself, it looks awkward."

"It was made for a dwarf, but the pull's about right for me," smoothly Susan replaced her arrows one by one, checking each one for damage.

Curiosity got the better of him, "Where did you learn to shoot anyway?"

Susan glanced at him, "School, all the girls had to learn in physical class. Most were terrible, but I wound up liking it. So, I kept it up, and eventually got a few awards for it. Even started an archery group for after school."

"Oh. It is... normal for women to fight?" assisting her in the regathering.

"Well no, we don't fight, we just use it as a sport, a skill for fun," kneeling to pick up a pretty red and gold leaf, twirling it between her fingers. "It's not as though I've ever killed anything with the knowledge, unless of course you count straw targets. Then I'm quite the bloodthirsty killer."

That made him laugh in surprise, and he offered her his arm, "Ah but your tongue is the more fearsome weapon I think. Do they teach this as well in your schools?"

Susan looked at him, then at his arm, and Caspian waited, barely breathing to see if she'd accept the gesture. Oddly enough she did, her hand slipping into the crook, "No, they don't, it's just the only tool left to me. When I'm not left with any other defense I use what I must. You would too if in my position."

"Is your position so horrible?" asking her as he had on a few occasions. Generally she just arched her brow and didn't answer. Though last time it'd appeared as though she may, for her lips had parted to speak, and she'd raised a finger but then stopped herself. It was his hope that she wouldn't this time. For it was best to know the mind of the creature he'd claimed for himself as best he could, to counter any inappropriate things she did, to plan for them, and stop them before they happened. He would not allow anyone to take what was his from him, so that meant being able to anticipate her, so that no further laws were broken that the Council would have her put to death for. Susan belonged to him, and that was all that mattered on that subject.

Staring straight ahead as they paced around the clearing, arrows now put away, "Sometimes. I'm not free Caspian, I used to be free... To be me. Well... maybe not fully. But I had choices Caspian, and wasn't punished for silly things."

"Like what?" hiding his elation, his mind pouncing on every word she said, storing it for later examination. She must not know how vital this was, otherwise shed clam right up.

"The rules were different Caspian, there's no... no line of comparison that you'd understand," unconsciously Susan was leaning on his arm.

"Then tell me how you were free, tell me of what it was like in Finch-lay."

Susan shivered, huddling closer to him, head hanging, "I'm not going to get to go home Caspian, I just know it. Why make myself think about it when there's nothing I can do? If I managed to escape, you'd stop me before I got far enough to know where I am."

Nodding, "Of course I would. But tell me anyway. Indulge my curiosity."

"Why? Why should I even bother? It's not like you care," with a shake she seemed to notice how closely she walked beside him, and she took a careful step to put more space between them.

Clearing his throat, "Because I wish to know. You know of my life, so it is only fair that I know something of yours." Allowing her to keep the distance between them, "Tell me how your current life is so terrible in comparison to your old one. It... it may be possible to make it less so for you," dangling the carrot.

"I have two brothers, Peter and Edmund and a sister, Lucy," Susan's voice cracked. "My father - he's at war."

"You are a great lady then of your people that your father's House would be at war with another?" this didn't really surprise him.

"Huh? Oh. No. He's a soldier, we're just... the nice middle-class Pevensies," laughing at him like his suggestion was absurd.

Caspian didn't think it was at all, she had a very regal bearing much of the time, and demanded respect from others - only a woman of station would be that way. Even the wives of the Telmarine Lords were like that, but only to those of lower station. But few did it as naturally as breathing as Susan did.

"So, he is a soldier, what of your House then?"

"Mother takes care of us, she works two jobs, money's scarce because of the war," gusty sigh, and she dropped the leaf she'd been fiddling with. "So I take care of my siblings. Cook, clean, and the like. Peter helps alot, as best he can. You two would either be good friends or kill each other. Well, if he knew what you'd done to me he'd definitely try to kill you. So would Ed, he'd be a lot sneakier though, he wouldn't try - he'd succeed. Peter would come at you head on, Edmund would make you trust him, then he'd kill you. He's just a boy, younger than me, but... as.. as difficult as he is, I know he loves us all. It's just hard on him with Father gone." A few tears glimmered on her cheeks, and Caspian wanted to brush them away, but felt that if he did, Susan would stop talking. He didn't want that, "And Lucy, she's so little, bright and happy. Oh god, I hope they're okay..."

"So... you take care of them. What else was it like?" trying to guide the topic elsewhere. Caspian couldn't stand the way Susan was looking off into the distance, pining for them. She was here, with him, and she should be satisfied with that. "What else did you do other than care for your family?"

"I went to school, my marks were alright I suppose, but I mostly liked to be in the library reading," walking closer to him once more, then she let out a watery chuckle, "Not a very interesting life. But it was mine, and I was loved. Here? Nothing is mine Caspian, I can call nothing my own, I can have no hopes, no dreams, no love, and when you throw me away, I'll have even less."

"You think I shall grow tired of you?" cocking his head.

Susan pulled her hand free of his arm, and went over to where he'd been sitting earlier, smoothing the back of her skirts as she sat down, "Of course. You're Telmarine. It's the custom of you..." he could tell she almost said 'barbarians', "people to use up a woman, throw her away, or maybe just kill her in some new and creative method just for fun. I'm not stupid Caspian, you keep forgetting that. I listen to what's said, I ask questions. You may have given me pretty things to wear, not that that impresses me mind you because it doesn't, and some small freedoms. But it's only so you can have things your way more easily. To make me more pleasing to your eye. Frankly there's at least a few times a day I think I'd just be better off dead, because then I wouldn't have to keep dancing to a tune I don't care for, with no escape from it all. And I know Caspian, I know that eventually you will kill me. So, I've never been one for anticipation or surprises, I just want shit over and done with. I don't play games, that's your territory, not mine."

Caspian could see where Susan was right, he may kill her eventually, but... looking at her, with her head turned, gaze focused off into the distance, a tendril of hair curling around her neck... he wasn't so sure if he would. He tried to imagine what she'd look like in twenty years, and he could see that she'd still have all the same grace, and probably all the same annoying traits. Could he kill that? Possibly, possibly not. Making himself comfortable next to her, Caspian reached for the bundle that held the bow he'd had made, then placed it before her wordlessly.

"What's this?"

"Open it," gesturing.

"It's not a snake is it? Didn't think you'd be tired of me already," dark laughter.

"Just," sighing in exasperation, "open it."

Gingerly she did so, her mouth parting in surprise, "A bow?"

"A satyr made it for you, said it should fit your arms and height better," running the pad of his thumb over her neck, the wound there little more than a dark still healing scar.

She frowned looking at him, "You had it made didn't you?"

Caspian leaned away from her, he'd been moving in to kiss her, but stopped himself, "I said a satyr made it for you."

She snorted, wrapping it back up, "Maybe a satyr made it, but only you could have them do it." Susan shoved the package back at him, "If you're not man enough to admit that, then I don't want it, because what's the point?" Scrambling up, Susan huffed, straightening her skirts, "I'm ready to go back now."

Grabbing her hand, Caspian pulled her down, so she tumbled into his lap, "And I am not ready to go back." Scooting Susan around so she lay over his thighs, "So, you want me to admit that I had it made for you? Then fine, yes I did. Now what do you say?"

"I say 'fuck you'. You're still a prick, and giving me a gift to butter me up doesn't mean anything, because in the end you'll just take what you want anyway," squirming in irritation, glaring at him over her shoulder.

Grunting as he yanked her skirts up, "You have the worst mouth I have ever come across."  
Susan propped her elbows on his thigh, her chin in her hands, "So? Someone ought to put you in your place someti- oh!"

His hand landed sharply over her exposed bottom, making her squeak in indignation. Conversationally as he struck her ass again, "Naughty girls," smack, "sometimes need to be," another one cracking through the air along with her cries, "reminded that dirty mouths," Susan's fingers dug into his thigh, her pale cheeks red - both sets, "do not belong on them."

"What... what do you think!" and his hand fell again.

REDACTED FOR FFN POLICY COMPLIANCE. The intact chapter is on Archive of Our Own under the same title.

Tugging on her chin, "Did you learn your lesson?"

Eyes bright, "I ...I don't know what it was..." licking her lips.

"Do not throw gifts away, that is what it was," too satiated to be mad at her. "Do not back talk me unnecessarily."

"And?" her chest heaving, clear white droplets and strands on her skin.

"If you do as I say, things will be good," pulling her back into his lap, so she could straddle his hips, fingers going down to delve into her femininity.

Susan's hands scrabbled over his shoulders and chest looking for purchase, her head tipping back as she moaned. Quickly he got her off, her juices coating his fingers, and dripping a bit down his knuckles. "I promise they will, just.. be good. You will like it, and eventually," leaning in to whisper in her ear, "you will ask for it."

Sucking his fingers clean, Caspian then kissed Susan, before tucking himself away. Maybe she'd figure out finally that he wanted her to touch him too, and willingly, not just when he overwhelmed her senses. Though, he could continue doing that for as long as necessary. She needed to be reminded sometimes, and he had enough patience to keep doing that for awhile. But when he took his throne, she'd be at his side, and by then she'd have to have learned who was her lord and master, and that he was the best she'd ever get.

Helping her up, and re-situating her skirts, his hand stroked the inside of her thigh as she braced herself with a hand on the tree that had stood witness to their act. It was sticky and slick, and all his doing. Susan was a bit wobbly still, and as he passed her the bow he'd had made for her, she leaned on his arm, still flushed. Taking a cloth from his belt, he wiped her chest and neck off, and she looked up at him in surprise, obviously having forgotten that his seed was still all over her.

With a quirk of his lips, Caspian stuffed the scrap deep between her breasts, "So you remember your lesson..."

Staring at him in shock, she mumbled, "Thank you."

"You are welcome, now, come along. I am ready to return."

XXX

Susan and Rosetta were scrubbing the dresses gently with warm water and vinegar to clean them. The smell wasn't so pleasant but it was better than what the dresses had started to smell like. People here didn't seem to bathe as much as she was used to, or wear clothes that were cleaned as often. Probably because they didn't have washing machines. She could barely remember what her mother had done before her father had gotten the family one.

Rosetta was cocking her head curiously as she left off the shift she was working on, then rummaged through the baskets of clothes then scratched her head, "Huh.. well that's odd.."

"What is it?" asking, worried that something may be wrong with all the clothes Caspian had gotten her the other month. If something had happened - well he wouldn't be happy with her at all.

"Oh," shaking her head, Rosetta, "You wouldn't happen to have any ah.. underthings to clean? Because there's none here..."

Blinking, "Ah, no. I don't have any. I didn't even know you wore that sort of stuff here. I've never seen Caspian in any, and well he's all I've got to go on. That and I never found any.. So I just thought everyone was ah... breezy."

Going back to washing the shift on the board, rinsing it, then scrubbing it again, "Oh well if you want some, I'm sure I could make you a few pairs. It must be mighty uncomfortable."

"Not really," shrugging, "I barely even notice anymore."

"Hmm I suppose he probably didn't get you any for a reason," Rosetta giggled causing Susan to blush.

"I hate him," hanging her head, taking everything out on the fabric in her hands.

Rosetta glanced at her, "I thought he was being nicer?"

"Define nicer," putting her back into it, some of her hair falling free of its braid, to be shoved back angrily, "he gets me things. Things I don't care one whit about. Not because he thinks they'll make me happy, but because I'll be better to look at!" Wringing the dress gently, squeezing water from it, spinning it into a coil and squeezing some more, "Or he gets them so I'll be more docile! I'm not some.. some milch cow to be kept like this. I have no freedom, no choices. He tells me how he wants me to wear my hair Rosetta. He rules everything I do!" Growling Susan' unfurled the dress, and hung it over a stand, "I don't play games, and I have no interest in what he plays at. I'm not a toy, I'm not a doll, and you and I both know this won't last. Eventually he'll tire of me, get bored," hands balling into fists, "and then he'll kill me. Just for the hell of it."

"I don't think he would," her voice soft and soothing. "He values you too much. Did.. did you know he's implemented a few of your suggestions?"

Susan flopped on the ground, legs curled up beneath her dress, "So I have a brain, but he doesn't care about that. He's smart enough to know good ideas when he sees them, but he doesn't care where they come from." Picking at the hem, staring at her fingers, "Sometimes I like him. When he just watches me when I'm practicing, then he seems nice. And... then the rest of the time he's just.. such a... ooh! He makes me so mad." Mimicking, "Do as I say, because I said so. If you're good you'll get a treat little doggy. Good dog, now here's your treat! Bad dog, time to beat you!" Grunting, "Fucking animal."

"When was the last time he.. hit you?" a hand tucked some of Susan's hair away as Rosetta fussed over her gently.

"It's been awhile..." thinking. "Actually it's been..." then she remembered the spanking and she flushed in shame. It had felt surprisingly good, and that made Susan disgusted with herself. Swallowing thickly, "Since he gave me my bow."

"What happened?" as the dwarf sat before Susan, taking her hands in hers, looking at her in deep concern.

Shivering, "He... he spanked me."

To that Rosetta was incredulous, "Spanked you? He spanked you? Like a little child?"

Nodding, "Yes..."

"Oh..." Susan shifted around, her body starting to warm to the memory, which she tried to shove away. Her friend noticed and pressed her for more information, "What else? What happened Susan? Oh do I need to twist his ear?"

"It.. it.. oh Rosetta I'm too ashamed," hugging herself. "What he did felt good... and that makes me sick. He touches me and I can't think, can't think at all. Always, every night, it's the same. He touches me and I want to fight, it's so dirty... but I can't stop. And he makes me like it."

"You know, when I met my Genkin it was like that a bit," then she giggled, "and when I finally gave in, oh my was it ever nice. But... because of what happened to me," serious once more, "well I thought it was bad of me to like it. Susan, it isn't, it's natural. Aslan made us this way, made it so it feels good. It's just normal for that, and if Caspian's being good enough to you for that, then well - he likes you I think." Susan just gave her a look, "M'lady it's not my place to say this, but when you weren't eating, he was beside himself. He kept asking me what you'd eat, and if you had eaten that day. Eventually he stopped asking me, but Morningdew would.. Probably so she could tell Glen, who'd then tell Caspian." Before Susan could reply, Rosetta continued, "I still get asked everyday if you've eaten. And what you've done, and do you seem happy."

"Yes so he can see if his little pet -"

Rosetta gestured sharply cutting her off, "He takes it out on everyone around him if you aren't well. Generally he's a dour sort already Su, but since you've come I've actually seen him smile a time or two, and it wasn't angry or anything. I didn't even know he could do it." Susan looked away from Rosetta's intense green eyes, "He is trying, he's probably the finest man the Telmarine's ever produced that managed to survive with any shred of decency to him. Give Caspian a chance, push him along when he needs it, but just... Give him a chance. And let yourself like it, it's how he's wooing you."

"Well - what if I don't want to?" pouting.

"Then you're just being selfish and blind m'lady," turning back to the washing, "selfish and blind. And you're not the only one who suffers if things are bad between the two of you. Give him time, give yourself time, but try to keep in mind that he's trying something that's foreign to everything in him. He's not like you or I, his moral compass is totally different, yet he's trying. I keep saying it, but it's the truth. So let him try, help him when he needs it, put him in his place when he needs that, but don't judge him too harshly."

Susan sighed and went back to helping, hanging her head, "I'm sorry. Its just.. not natural for me to let myself get pushed around. I don't like it."

"Did I say let him push you around dear? I said let him try and help him. These things take time, it doesn't all just happen quick as a snap. Well sometimes it does, but mostly not."

They were quiet for awhile but what Rosetta said made sense. Letting her thoughts wander, Susan washed in companionable silence. Then something tripped over in her mind.

Murmuring, "Time..." then shrugged, changing the subject, the thought not fully formed and ready to come out yet, "So how have the fights been going? I don't get told much really. He doesn't discuss anything with me, I just get whatever reports he's gone over, and I make notes then give them back to him."

"Oh," Rosetta cracked her back, stretching, "Well sometimes it goes well. The information we've been receiving is sporty at best, nonexistent or incorrect at worst. The other day they walked right into a trap, almost didn't make it out. Ironhoof was leading and while they only managed to lose a couple men - still each loss counts. And each loss hurts Caspian a little I think, he hasn't spoke much according to Morningdew, except to issue orders."

Susan shook her head, "Well what are your spies telling him?"

"Spies?"

"Yeah spies - what everyone thought I was when I was first brought here trussed up like a deer," giving her a look that said she was wondering about the older woman's sanity for a moment.

"Oh - we don't have any, just the scouts," shrugging as though it were totally normal.

"What? You're in a war and you have no spy network? Are... are you all daft? No wonder it's taking so much time!" Susan lept to her feet, pacing furiously, one hand cupping her chin, the other in her skirts keeping them just a bit off the ground so she wouldn't trip from how fast she was walking back and forth. "No spies, no intelligence? Well that explains almost everything!" Whirling towards Rosetta, "Do we have any sort of Animals that can observe what the Lords are doing? Or in camps and such? Oh I know! The gryphons and Eagles can spot enemy camps, and drop Mice off nearby... have routines set up for information gathering, have the Mice work in small teams, have Birds monitor troop and supply movements, sending a relay of intelligence that's faster than the fastest Horse!"

"So you'll tell Caspian tonight?"

"What, huh? Oh, no," shaking her head, Susan went back and forth, back and forth, "He's already got so much on his plate, he tries to be everywhere at once. If he knew about this he'd try and sneak in with the Mice..."

"Well you have to tell someone," Rosetta got up, hanging another dress to dry.

"Morningdew, you could tell her..."

Rosetta shook her head, "I can't, I report to Caspian directly, in fact - I didn't hear this conversation. But, I can get you in contact with Morning."

Susan was excited, and hugged Rosetta impulsively, "Thankyou, thankyou - oh and I'll write up the reports and give them to Morningdew, she'll know how to get them to Caspian without him knowing... Make it seem natural, yes, just like scouting..." Nodding to herself, Susan started humming a spritely tune, here was how to really help the Narnians other than bolster their sour leader's mood. And it was more practical than just giving into Caspian. Though she'd keep what Rosetta said in mind. All of it.

XXX

Morningdew was tall, almost as tall as her mate Glenstorm, and if it weren't for her gentle smiles Susan would be very intimidated. She'd never actually met her in person before, so Susan wasn't sure what to expect. Someone powerful and peaceful like Glenstorm, rippling with muscles and power. Instead even as big as she was, Morningdew had the softest aura to her that Susan had ever been exposed to. The centaur had only nodded politely to her, then offered to let Susan ride her as she walked around outside. Now that had been a surprising offer and she'd said so.

"I was told it wasn't nice to ask..." tilting her head back, "for you're not a beast of burden, but a person, and I'd never want to offend... Though...though it does look like fun when I see Caspian ride. Do you think one of the Horses would teach me?"

Morningdew again offered her her hand, "Come, you can ask one yourself. And since I'm offering," she smiled yet again, so full of kind smiles, "it won't offend me at all."

Susan tried not to be clumsy, but she was sure she'd kicked Morningdew at least once trying to clamber up. Finally she had to settle on standing on a rock and then getting on, mightily embarrassed by the whole thing. Morningdew only chuckled once, telling her it was alright, and to get comfortable.

"You may want to grip a bit tighter with your thighs," her voice was musical.

Susan managed to not yelp when Morningdew started walking, gradually picking up speed as Susan got more comfortable. She found that if she held a bit to the centaur's waist, her seat was secure enough to not slip off.

Giggling, "It's like riding a bicycle sort of!"

"What's a bicycle?" thrown over her shoulder, wavy black curls floating up every now and then, shifting in time to their trotting.

"A machine that has two wheels on it, and pedals you push, my brother had one!" but she didn't mention that it was more natural feeling on the bike because Susan didn't have to open her legs so far to accommodate an equine barrel.

"Interesting," and then they entered the shade of the rainbow hued trees, their leaves in a riot of colour, all golds, reds, yellows, browns, and tinges of green that hadn't quite faded. Susan's violet dress was distinct as it dripped over Morningdew's flanks but they weren't looking to hide so it didn't matter. "Now what can I do for you m'lady?" her pace slowed, "For I was under the impression that what you wished to speak of may be.. best left out of the men's quarters for now?"

"Well, not the men in general, just one man," scooting down her back to lay with her arms hanging over Morningdew's lower torso, head below the join of woman and equine.

"And what would that be that you felt I could help with?"

"I was thinking about the way information's gathered around here, and it doesn't seem too smart to me," falling in love with the rolling rocking motion, when she'd been on Destrier, Caspian had been angry with her and the ride wasn't very comfortable. This was almost like a bit of heaven, though so very different.

"You have complaint with the scouts?"

"No," shaking her head, cheek rubbing over Morningdew's back with the motion, "not at all. But... we have Mice, what use do they have other than some fetching and such? They're a resource that's not being used! And same with the Birds, there's just so much that can be done. Mistakes like the skirmish of the other day wouldn't happen if there was a system set up."

Coming to a halt, "A system for what? Spying?"

"Well, yes!" eyes closed, relaxing. "The Mice and even the small Cats can get into castles, act like 'normal' cats and mice, and listen to everything that goes on. And then, at prearranged times, they could report to a Bird, who then flies to a scheduled point, who then relays the information of earlier to another Bird or gryphon, and then to well.. to me I suppose. Or you. Or both? Then some reports will get done up, unless the matter is highly urgent, then it'll be passed onto one of the scouts who'll be in on all of it, who'll warn whoever's in danger that there's well - danger."

"HmmI'm surprised no one else has thought of this," Morningdew seemed distressed. "I'd blame the men, but I hadn't thought of it either."

Giggling a bit, "They are a bit daft, that's why I want the spies to be all female. Besides, Caspian has some rather silly notions about women. And when he gets his throne back, the Narnian women should be able to stand up and demand more rights because of their part in the war - which would also apply to the human kind too." Blinking and watching the rainbow carpeted floor move beneath her, making Susan feel she was floating on air, "Which would earn Caspian some enemies amongst the Telmarine men, but if there's a big enough majority overall - then things will be better for everyone. Not only that, but in the long run it'll make things more equal for everyone, if Caspian doesn't separate the sexes, it's symbolic of the lack of separation of the Telmarines and Narnians, don't you think?"

"What I think Daughter of Eve, is that you are a gift from Aslan. No one at all has thought that far ahead, Caspian barely thinks past the next few months, and I'm afraid that mentality has spilled over into us," Morningdew chuckled, the sound like tinkling bells.

"Mph," shifting so her chin was propped up, "is it okay that I'm on you like this? You're so comfortable... If you don't mind me saying so."

"No child, I don't mind at all, it has been many years since I've carried a small one on my back," musing softly, "there were a few mountain villages back when Caspian was a small child, and his mother was alive, Caspian the Ninth was not a good ruler for us Narnians, we had long since been removed form the kingdom, shoved to the outskirts, but unlike many of his predecessors he didn't pursue us." Sighing, "And in the mountain villages some of us lived side by side with Telmarines, living quiet lives. I was young, and I played with all the others who were young. Sometimes I'd give the littlest ones rides so that they could keep up with us." Morningdew shivered, "Then the news came that Caspian's mother had been executed, and things.. began to change slowly. Not many years after that, more news came - Caspian the Ninth was dead by his son's hand. And the Council of Lords took over, while 'grooming' Caspian for his throne." She spat angrily, which was out of character for a centuar as far as Susan had heard, "Those vipers, foul things! They came, they burnt down the villages, raped and pillaged, killed Narnian and Telmarine alike! Tortured and laughed, monsters the lot of them. I..." her voice shook, "I tried to save a few of the little ones on my back, but I was spooked by fire and.. threw them. To my shame. To my utter shame."

Susan was crying and scooted forward to hug Morningdew, burying her face in her shoulder and hair, squeezing her, "You were little? What could you have done? Fire is a scary thing... You tried, and that's all that can be done for them then. But now," whispering, voice thick with tears, "now you can do something for them all. For the ones you couldn't save and the ones you can save today." She wasn't sure where the words were flowing from, she'd never thought herself very persuasive, "You can help me help you all, we can protect the men now, and later, when this damnable war is over, we can save the women and children too. We can help them have better lives if whe can show Caspian that all of us have uses beyond what he's used to thinking. I know he's... he's accepted that Narnian women fight, but he hasn't accepted the fact that they can lead too. I've heard that between you and your mate, you are the better tactician - yet it is he who walks with Caspian. Well, we need to fix that in the long run, open his eyes to the rest of his people."

The woman shuddered at it, her hands curling over Susan's where they were holding onto her jerkin, "I've only told Glenstorm of this, and yet here I am, telling you little girl child. And in answer you come up with a solution to ease my heart. You really are a gift."

Snuffling, not feeling very much like a gift at the moment, or like a good thing, only hurting for a centaur who was once little and had been scared, "Someone else said that too. What does it mean anyway? What's Aslan?"

"Aslan, He's.. the Lord of Narnia. He created us, gave us all life," patting Susan's hands, "He created this world with a His roar. And when the White Witch was defeated, He crowned a family as Kings and Queens to rule us, to help us and guide us."

"You mean he's like God? And - what happened to the Kings and Queens?" pressing her ear to Morningdew's back, listening to the beat of her heart. It'd been a long time since she felt safe, and right now she did. Like if she were scared and told the other woman, that Morningdew would run as fast as the wind, carrying her from all fears and violence, not failing to stay strong and not spooking at fire.

"God? What is 'god'? As for the Kings and Queens though, they ruled for many years, then the children of the High King ruled, and his children's children. Until now, with Caspian's uncle upon the throne."

"What? You... you're saying that he's some... grandchild of someone crowned by God? You know," matter-of-factly, "God doesn't really exist. And unless there's been a lot of inbreeding I find it hard to believe that Caspian's the grandchild of these people. I mean it makes for a good story, and I'd love to hear all of it, but - well. That's just silly! It's just propaganda. Like when the newsreels come on to tell us how the war effort in Europe is going, that everything's just fine and dandy. Yet the deathtoll is astounding, astronomical," shaking her head, "its just something to tell the people to fool them into thinking everything is fine, and that those in power know what they're doing simply because!"

Morningdew craned her neck around, "Aslan is real. The How is His tomb," turning around, heading in a different direction than which they came, "the table that is cracked, he was sacrificed there by the White Witch. He was resurrected, and helped Krispen the Mighty rid the land of the Witch's winter." Shaking her head, "Aslan works in mysterious ways Daughter of Eve, and He is about us at all times. And He will come when we need Him most."

There was a neigh, and skidding as Destrier came charging up to them, then Caspian hauled back on the reins, making the warhorse rear. The stallion's hooves slammed to the ground, and the Prince looked caught between a glare and a flat out scowl, "I see you have company my lady centaur. It was my belief that I had stated that the prisoner was not to go beyond certain bounds."

"I'm sorry Caspian," Susan spoke up, wishing to spare Morningdew, "it's my fault." And it was to a degree, but she didn't know the limits of where he'd allow her, and Morningdew had been the one driving... So to speak. Licking her lips, Susan forged ahead, "We were just talking and walking along, and I said that I thought the forest looked pretty and could she please show me." Caspian's face became darker at these words, "I'm sorry Caspian it won't happen again. I promise."

He shook his head, snorting, "See that it does not. Now, come," sidling Destrier close to Morningdew who stiffened in offense, "get behind me."

"M'lord, if I may? Your mount looks fatigued, I can carry her, she's not burden at all," as she stepped away from Destrier and his rider.

A muscle ticked in his jaw, teeth clenching and unclenching, then he whirled Destrier around, "Fine, bring her now then," before galloping off.

Susan started shaking, a low whimper escaping, "Oh no..."

Morningdew tried to comfort her, "It'll be all right, he just doesn't like not knowing where you are. Men are such strange creatures. Now, before I take you back, yes I shall help you. And you must be brave m'lady, reassure him that you weren't trying to leave."

"Trying to leave? Why would I do that? There's a war going on. And - he'd catch me before I'd get two feet out from under his gaze," feeling sick to her stomach. Would he hit her this time?

"Trust me, just reassure him, Caspian's feathers are merely ruffled, he worries overmuch," shaking her head, "Glenstorm is like that sometimes too, forgetting that I can take care of myself. Hmph. You're right, definitely need to make it all up of females. Men think with their parts too much, not with their brains."


	6. Chapter 6

Caspian was stalking from one end of the room to the other when she entered. Susan gingerly closed the door, trying not to cringe. It was hard to stay strong infront of his demands, to hide how much he terrified her. Most of the time he seemed to think she just automatically gave him lip, but it was reflex, what she'd told him was true - it was a defense. Stepping farther away from the door she waited quietly, not looking at him, just at some point over his shoulder. She did that a lot, not looking at him - it made life easier. Because he was handsome, she'd finally admit that, and outside one day she'd realized his eyes weren't black, but the colour of dark melted chocolate. And she'd always had a sweet tooth. He was the ultimate bad for you treat, and Susan had to remind herself to stay strong and not simply give in to whatever he wanted. Because that was wrong, and that was dirty, despite what Rosetta had said. Even if it felt wonderful sometimes.

A lot of times.

All the time.

"What were you doing?" it was snapped.

Flinching, "What did it look like we were doing? I was with the wife of your most loyal commander, what the hell did it seem like I was doing?" Shaking her head, fighting for the normal acid yet incorporating what Morningdew had suggested, "Its not like I was trying to escape. What are you - daft? I can't go two steps without you knowing that I've done so. So how in the hell would I escape? Men really are stupid."

"What were you doing?" his voice lowered further.

"I told you! We were out walking and talking! I was lonely and she offered to take me for a ride," shrugging, "and if you really want to know what we were talking about, we were talking about how men only think with their pricks and never anything else. That's what. Besides, why are you in such a huff anyway? You were off riding patrol, it's not like you needed me to be here the whole time."

"You were not here and you were not with Rosetta, no one knew where you were," Caspian walked up to her, crowding her, and the scent of him swamped her senses. He looked tired yet freshly groomed, "I had thought to take you for a walk. My mistake thinking you would wish to have something so nice."

Breathing shallowly, trying to fight the urge to lean in smelling him, "Well we could go now."  
Caspian put his hand on her waist, pulling her close, "No we cannot go now."

"Why?" furrowing her brow. She'd tried to offer him an olive branch, she wasn't yelling at him, and that was as easy as Susan was ready to go on him. "Because you said so? Or because you're cranky now, with your knickers all in a knot?"

"...Knickers?"

"Nevermind," he smelled so good. And ever since she'd talked to Rosetta, Susan had had a difficult time ignoring him the same way she had before. Not that then she could, she just could fool herself a bit more about it. "So - what did you require Master?" mocking him, trying to make him go away, trying to make her thighs stop aching every time he touched her.

"Why must you be so difficult?" shaking his head, Caspian pulled away from her.

Susan told the part of her brain that was disappointed to shut up, go suck on eggs, and rot, "And why must you be such an asshole? Best leave such questions to aged sages with beards."

Caspian raked his hand through his hair, and Susan's fingers itched recalling how soft those loose floppy curls were. Ever since the second time it was like he'd become a drug, and each time after that it was an uphill battle to not just cave and touch him. Susan just didn't understand, he was beastly yet sometimes when she caught him watching her like a hawk, she could see confusion in his face, could see some fight inside his head between hardness and softness. They just stayed like that, him pacing, tugging on his hair occasionally, then growling, while Susan stood there trying to look bored. Times like this, Susan thought she should be an actress, but that wasn't a good job for a nice middle class girl. Swallowing, then again being a harlot was even further from being a good job for a nice girl. Because that's what she was, and then the nausea of the situation hit her once more. A man had put hands on her and she'd liked it, and the man wasn't her husband, would never be her husband and frankly - Susan never would think of Caspian as the sort of man who'd be more than a brute in the long run. Not fit company of a woman with any morals, nor a fit role model for children.

Fingers twisting into her skirts, Susan went to go sit at her table cum desk, and went about fussing with the papers there. She had to distract herself, because her body was giving her too many signals, she couldn't handle it. And Caspian's presence was too powerful and it made her feel tiny and helpless. Shivering, Susan wrote brisk notations along the sidelines of the reports Caspian had left for her earlier as he did most days. God he could move fast and quietly, because the only warning she had was an intensifying of his scent, then his arms framing hers as his hand braced on either side of the table, his face only inches from hers.

"Do you wish to go for a stroll?" Susan could see his fingers twitching and straining as he fought for some kind of control, as his breath coasted over her ear.

No she did not wish to go for a stroll, what she wanted to do was shove him as far away from her as she could. That and turn around and kiss him. Susan gripped her quill tightly, but made herself slacken the hold, not wanting to break it, "I don't know." It came out honestly, something she tried to never be with him, but Caspian had this way that he could coax a tumult of responses she wasn't used to throwing out there, as though it was easy as breathing. Turning her head a breath, "Whatever you desire is fine, I can work on these later."

Caspian's lips stroked over the place he'd cut her what felt years ago but really wasn't so long as all that, it wasn't even quite fully healed, "You work very hard. This is not your fight, nor are they your people. Why is that?"

Surprised by the line of questions, and from the look on his face, he was just as startled as her, "Um. Well, because."

"Because seems to be your favorite answer," snorting. "Try something else instead - like actually explaining yourself."

Scowling minutely at his left hand that rested not two inches from hers, "The Narnians need all the help they can get with an idiot like you in charge," mixing the truth with an insult. Distance she had to remind herself, because she'd almost reached out to stroke the scar running along his index finger to his wrist. "You've been in this war for over a year, and the only progress you've got to show for it is a lot of unmarked graves on both sides. Only fools get into war Caspian, those who have no long-view, only the immediate. This fight for your throne is draining the country." Shaking her head, "If you ever regain your throne, will you even have a country to rule? Or will it be so poor from the blood spilt that nothing will grow, that you'll have no workers to till the fields, bring in the harvests?" Blinking back a tear at that thought, she hurt so bad for the people of this country, it was just so damnably wrong all this meaningless killing, "And what of the nations that surround this one? Will they see it as easy pickings and tear it from the victor of this civil war's grasp, adding another feather to that nation's cap? Fools, all of you." Leaning back over her work, whispering, "Someone's got to try and help, someone's got to think of something other than honour and power and thrones. So you go, go and kill all you wish, and sit on your empty throne. I'll try to at least save a bit, and not for you, but for Rosetta. For Hitastik. For Jumbletot, Nikabrik, and Glenstorm. For Morningdew, Ironhoof, and Jiroon. For all the ones I don't know the name of, and for all those I've never met or seen. You just... do your thing, and I'll pick up and protect what pieces I can."

Caspian was still, just watching over her shoulder, as her pen scratched messily, she was still not quite proficient with the quill, it was different than what she was used to entirely. The warmth of Caspian's fingers curling over hers, adjusting the pressure on the paper, his body shifting closer to her, "Like this, otherwise you shall wear the tip down too quickly, and your hand will cramp badly." He didn't say anything about what she said, just kept his chest pressed lightly to her shoulders, hand guiding hers in a series of abc's that were more and more perfect, until his fingers were barely resting on hers as she got the hang of it.

The moment was peaceful for all the intensity of Caspian's aura, and for a while Susan forgot she was supposed to hate him.

XXX

Susan was sleeping, or trying to. Caspian hadn't come to dinner and she missed him. Well maybe not him per se, but his quietness, his roiling energy in all its dark shadowyness. Tugging what was once his cloak up closer around her shoulders, re-situating the other blankets that lay heavily over her, Susan hoped his patrol was safe. Enemy activity hadn't slackened as she had thought it would, but increased frantically. When she'd asked Morningdew about it during one of their little rolling walks, Susan draped over the centaur like a pile of fabric, relaxed, the woman had said that it was due to the fact that the season was almost over, and that Miraz would try to press for a fast victory. Now while she could see the logic of it, Susan still thought it foolishness. That and she had a sinking feeling, a fear that Miraz wouldn't cease his attacks, even if they eased some with snowfall. Not unless Caspian managed to strike several strong blows to cripple Miraz's efforts.

Starting to drift off, plans and worries running amok in her mind, her door creaked open. A soft scuff, and a sigh, then a few grunts as she heard Caspian putter about. Blinking sleepily, Susan felt eased for some reason, and part of her welcomed knowing that Caspian was alright. Without him the Narnians would lose hope and their one bid at the possibility for a somewhat fair ruler. Shifting and jangling as he disrobed, then Caspian was slipping beneath the covers behind her, his body radiating warmth. He smelled a bit sweaty, a little horsey, and a little coppery, but that was normal.

Long hands ran down her sides, pulling Susan closer to him, and Susan had to remind herself over and over again to not enjoy it so much this time. That this time she wouldn't wind up sighing in pleasure, that she hated him, and that it didn't feel good. Calloused fingertips stroked the backs of her thighs as Caspian lifted the hem of her gown, and Susan had to clench her teeth tightly to ignore him. Lips pressed to her neck, breath hot, and Susan wove her fingers through her hair clutching to it, telling herself that nothing was happening, even as Caspian dragged her shift up and up and up. Having to let go of her hair and her ability to shove his presence from her mind, Susan half leaned up so Caspian could pull the material over her head. Normally he didn't take her completely naked, normally he was still partially dressed, his pants shoved only far enough down to allow him his desires, but as she lay back down, she could feel that he was as bare as the day he was born. Wordless, Caspian's mouth traveled down her neck to her shoulder, then along the curve of her spine, and Susan couldn't stop herself from letting out a tiny breath of anticipation.

[REDACTED TO COMPLY WITH FFN POLICY. Unedited on Archive of Our Own]

Slowly Susan's heartbeat returned to normal, and then Caspian was laying her down, staying inside even as his manhood softened gradually. Hands stroked her belly and breasts, lips close to her ear.

"I will not let you go," whispering, "you are mine... you belong to me..."

Susan just shuddered, the words were quiet yet filled with claim, and she knew what he said was true whether she wanted it to be or not. Opening her eyes, Susan glanced down noticing a long cut on his arm, she hadn't seen it during the sex, it was bandaged, and red beneath the black sutures.

"What happened?" softly.

"I will not let anyone take you from me," the question was ignored. Susan wriggled trying to free herself, but his arms tightened, "I will not let you leave either. Not ever. You are mine."

Did she detect a hint of desperation? Stroking near the wound, "What happened Caspian?"

"Nothing," and then Susan did struggle, managing to turn to face him. It was obvious more than 'nothing' had happened, there were several shallow wounds on him, each stitched but none bandaged.

Swallowing, Susan caressed his cheek, causing his eyes to slam shut, face turning into it, and Susan realized she'd only touched him on her own a few times. Only when he was hurting. Uncaring if it was right or wrong, she couldn't stand anyone in pain, and something was bothering Caspian, Susan kissed his chin, hoping to make it better. A full body twitch rocked through Caspian, his palm going up to cover hers where it rested on his cheek.

"What happened Caspian?"

"Warning came in time, I do not know how, we avoided the worst of it overall," mumbling.  
Sickened with worry, Susan cuddled closer to him, face nuzzling into his neck, "I'm glad you got away."

"Are you?" right then Caspian sounded vulnerable, weak, and afraid.

Surprisingly, she was, "Yes."

"They were heading straight towards the How," it was dragged from Caspian, as Susan found herself kissing his face, questing for his lips, while he was grumbling around her mouth. "I will not let anyone take you from me."

Not really aware of what she was doing, Susan just nodded and kept kissing him, her hands moving over his shoulders, "I know."

For what seemed forever they kissed, his hands running over her frantically as her own rubbed all over him, and if when she accidentally touched his hurts, he didn't even flinch, all the while faces mashed together, shifting this way and that. When she needed air, Susan's mouth moved to another part of him, chest, neck or shoulder, but always back to his mouth. Caspian seemed like he was drowning, clinging to her for some kind of comfort, and Susan knew without being told that it had been bad, very bad if he was acting like this. He was a devastatingly strong man, and for him to show any weakness was tantamount to him saying he was nothing. Utterly contrary to his nature, to his upbringing, yet for some reason he'd decided she was the person he could try to be human around, and for once Susan was willing to let him, despite all that'd been done to her at his hands.

Now she knew what Rosetta had meant, had asked, and Susan found herself on her back, Caspian moving to fit his hips between hers, and Susan didn't brace herself, she merely held his waist, pulling him into her with a sigh. Now his pace was rough and demanding, like he was trying to bury whatever had happened deep inside her. Susan took it, holding him, caressing his back, and all the horrific scars there, she'd almost forgotten about them. Susan hated pain in others, hated it in herself, but in others it was unbearable, so she allowed what Caspian dished, his body pounding in and out of her punishingly. Ragged growls and grunts panted in her ear, a breast mashed and squeezed by one strong hand, and even then Susan's body betrayed itself making her moan, but she wasn't fighting, she didn't care. He needed something, and this time she was giving it.

Tomorrow she promised herself she could hate him again, but not right now, not when he was hurting and when he needed her. Over almost as fast as it had started, Caspian collapsed, crushing her, pressing her into the thick padding. Tangling her fingers in his hair, Susan wrapped her legs around his hips, keeping him held tightly to her.

Caspian let out a soft, appreciative growl, nuzzling at her neck, before giving her a languid kiss.

When he broke off, "Will you stay tonight?"

He gave a little start, looking at her, "Why?"

"It'd make me feel better," and it would, because all of a sudden it dawned he was her only safety net here, even if she didn't want him to be. As is she took some comfort in his routine presence, and a little finger of fear was wriggling in her brain, it wouldn't be bad for only the Narnians if he was killed or majorly hurt. She'd still hate him in the morning, but right now he was just a man and she was just a woman, both in a bad situation. And she wanted him there while she slept. "Please?"

With a nod, Caspian settled next to her, and Susan rolled into him listening to his heartbeat. It was triphammering in his chest, but his breathing was easy. Closing her eyes, Susan let the sleep he'd interrupted claim her.


	7. Chapter 7

Coming awake by degrees, Caspian shifted, a weight was on his chest, and one on his leg. Cracking an eye open he saw Susan nestled comfortably in his arms, sleeping peacefully. She looked soft and tiny there, and like it was just right. With a smile, he stroked her hand were it rested over his heart, right infront of her nose. It'd been a long time since he had woken up feeling so rested. She'd touched him, all on her own, kissing him, stroking him, that was a gift and a surprise. Licking his lips, Caspian picked up her hand, brushing each finger with his mouth. Trying to pinpoint the feeling he was having, Caspian realized with a grin that he felt... good. This was what he'd been searching for from her, this... this... no. No. His heart started to hammer in his chest, this was bad. What he was feeling was bad, not good, it was inappropriate, it was wrong. Men didn't feel this way, it was weak.

Susan rubbed her cheek against him, smiling as she snuggled closer, her leg tangling further with his. A bolt of desire, soft, and strong in one fired his blood. Caspian struggled, fighting it back, this was wrong. Unable to move, unable to act, Caspian watched as Susan's eyes fluttered open partially and she smiled up at him. An open mouthed kiss was pressed to his pectoral, her fingers drawing lazy designs on the side of his cheek where she was cupping it.

"Good morning, sleep well?" she was practically purring.

The sound terrified him, and angered him. He was Telmarine. He was a man. Not some... weak... tainted.. woman. With an enraged snarl, Caspian shoved her off of him, and clambered to his feet gracelessly. Away, he needed to get away from the poison she had put in his veins. Caspian was a man, and he couldn't afford the weakness she had injected him with.

"Caspian?" Susan sounded worried. "Caspian what's wrong?"

"Shut up," yanking on his clothes in jerky motions, back to her. If he looked his mother's weakness may overtake him.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" there was a smack from her hand thudding on her bed.

"I said shut up woman!" managing to shove his foot into the boot he was struggling with. Yes, away, away, away that's where he needed to be. Needed to remind himself that she was nothing more than a possession. Not something he should be cuddling with. Disgusted with himself, Caspian now clothed was slinging his swordbelt around his hips though his hands shook. "Do not say a fucking word. Not a one!"

He'd made a mistake going to her last night.

Somehow his control slipped and he glanced back at her, "This will not happen again," before storming out.

Too bad he couldn't get the image of her kneeling, nude, face flushed with angry tears, and a look in her eyes of utter disappointment.

Caspian tore through the halls, needing distraction.

Needing punishment.

Collaring Glenstorm, "I am going out on patrol with Ironhoof." Split seciond decision, "On the east front."

"Your Highness that's the roughest section," the centaur protested. "And just yesterday -"

Cutting his hand through the air, "The defenses there need bolstering. Maybe the presence of their general will help. Say no more, you are in charge for the duration of my absence. I shall take a fresh rotation of soldiers and supplies. Have it ready within an hour."

His second started to protest, "But-"

"Do it!" snarling.

"Yes, Your Highness," as he bowed solemnly.

Watching as the proud warrior walked away, issuing orders, Caspian went to Destrier's stall, where no one could see him, and collapsed against the horse's flank, shivering. How far had the disease spread? Oh it'd spread very far indeed, thinking about the day before. And Caspian knew he was in trouble, a trouble he had know idea of how to get out of. He could kill Susan, but the troops seemed to need her, and since she'd arrived the efforts of his men had doubled. Susan was too useful to kill at this point, and... he was frightened he couldn't do it. Yesterday all he'd thought when he heard that soldiers were heading towards the How, was that he wouldn't let anyone take Susan from him, not about his soldiers, not about his throne. But about a mere woman. No one would take her from him, he'd vowed yesterday - not even himself. So he must honour that word, though it'd not been uttered. Struggling for the control that had eluded him, Caspian waited for news that everything had been made ready to go.

Caspian was bloody, he hated being bloody. It wasn't pain that was so bad, it was the sticky, dirty feeling that got to him. Pain was a constant companion until he'd fled his home. Now only stress was his usual friend, and these hurts he had - they were nothing. Driving himself onward, pushing Destrier harder than he should, Caspian nudged him into a trot. Blood was terrible, it made his clothes cling to him, made him smell, and made it difficult to move properly because it stiffened the fabric and leather. Not only that but blood could speed up the rusting of his chainmail.

Ironhoof managed to keep his head up high beside him. As Glenstorm's younger brother, the centaur had no technical right of command, yet Caspian had assessed the man and decided to give him one of the worst fronts. So far the captain hadn't buckled. Signs of fatigue were all over him though, just as Caspian knew they were all over him.

"Your High-"

Shaking his head, "No titles between us thank you. They only get in the way." Shifting uncomfortably, trying to resettle his brigadine over the chainmail and gambeson he wore, "We took a pounding, and we got out of it. That is what matters, do not fret. Leave that to me."

Surprised, then resigned, "As you command."

They were three days into the patrol, and so far they'd had to cope with seven attempted ambushes. If it hadn't been for the fresh men Caspian had brought with him, he feared the group would have been cleaned out. Leaning over in the saddle, Caspian rummaged in his pack for some of the dried nut and oat rations, also tugging out some jerked meat. For what it was worth, Narnian's knew how to make good rations that were filling and good for energy. Defiantely better than the Telmarine idea of boot leather and gruel. Wordlessly he offered some to Ironhoof who looked like he could use a bit of nourishment, Caspian munched quietly. He should have come out here before now, but hadn't because he'd wanted to stay closer to the How. Closer to Susan.

That had been a terrible thing, one of his worst ideas ever, and he'd grown complacent. When he got back he'd have to correct matters. Raising his hand, Caspian signaled a halt, everyone needed a few minutes to lick their wounds and catch their breath. And Destrier could probably do with a bit of time without hauling his ass around. Leather creaked as Caspian dismounted, holding his food between his teeth.

That was when he heard it, just beneath the jingling of harnesses and armour, under the rustlings of exhausted troops.

Apparently Ironhoof had heard it too - and the centaur leaped infront of Caspian, sheilding him from the shafts. Strong hands threw him back into the saddle from where he'd partially dismounted.

"Ambush!" it was hollered, and there were screams as men died. Ironhoof was bleeding profusely, grabbing Destrier's reins and urging the steed into renewed energy, "Get to safety!"

Caspian tried to spin his mount about, but couldn't, not in time. Ironhoof screamed in agony, then was cut short, feathered shafts sprouting from him like a pincushion, blood gouting, one taking him directly in the throat. Yanking his sword from its scabbard, Caspian finally got his warhorse turned around, and raced back in. Hacking about him, as Telmarines streamed into the path, cutting off both ends of it, Caspian fought desperately, trying to rally his men.

"To me! To arms! Defend yourselves!" he barely noticed when his shoulder was pierced, and he didn't notice when metal jarred against bone in his thigh, pinning him to the saddle. Caspian's sword rose and fell, like he was cutting wood, that's what it was like. Somehow his worn out men managed to throw off their attackers, make them pay dearly, despite the fact that the Telmarines outnumbered them three-to-one. Panting, Caspian was dizzy, but couldn't let the Narnians see that, not now, not with Ironhoof down.

As he attempted to dismount once more, Caspian howled, pain ripping through his leg, and the realization that he'd been shot finally came to the fore. Wrenching the arrow out was his first inclination, but he knew there were too many vital blood vessels there, so Caspian struggled through the fog of pain, directing his men best he could in his condition.

"We must fall back," through gritted teeth, "to the base camp. Then evacuate to... other.. camps. Pylonus, you - you are captain now."

"Sire we must have you seen to," the satyr pointed to three of the men who were the least injured, "Take him back to the -"

"No! No! No, not back to main base," clinging to the saddle horn, "could lead them there," waving at the trees. "We must not do that. Must not."

The patrol camp was in an uproar. Amongst evacuating and making plans for circuitous escapes to throw off any potential trackers, the injured had to be cared for. Caspian was one of them. It was something that pissed him off, because frankly he was fine, just a little scuffed up. But everyone was insisting that he be returned to the How. And he wasn't about to go back. He had two more days to be out on patrol, and he'd see them through. From there he wasn't sure what he'd do though, probably not go back to the How. Change his main base to somewhere else, somewhere unexpected. Yes, so he could draw Telmarine activity and searches away from trying to find the How, and... finding Susan.

Wincing, Caspian shoved thoughts of her away. Pain had finally settled into his body, which was good, it was a good punishment. A reminder of who he was. Telmarines are pain, and surviving it. That's who he was, not some soft woman. Not tainted. One of the minotaurs had been standing guard over him, like he was some child, Grilf, loyal to a fault, and dumb as a rock. Caspian had to look good infront of such a Narnian, they'd once been enemies of Aslan, and of most Narnians in times past according to history. Before he could take two steps though, Grilf lay a steadying hand on Caspian's back, assisting.

Growling, "I do not require assistance Grilf. I am quite fit thank you."

The minotaur looked uncertain, "Your Highness, careful, you are injured."

"I know, and I know my limits," glancing at the many scars - some fresh some old, "just as it is apparent you know yours. I will not quit the field because of some trifling knicks when my men bear worse upon their flesh. I am no coward."

"My Liege, it's not that," Pylonus came up, "but you're too valuable to leave here in such a condition. We can't have you hurt or taken from us."

Grilf nodded, "You are the brain of this army," and Caspian was startled at how well spoken the minotaur was. "We are but the limbs, something that can be cut off when needed, without you - the body fails."

Looking around, Caspian saw many of the Narnian's watching him, some directly, some not, all of them waiting. "Is this what you all think? That you mean less to this effort than me?"  
A few 'yes's and many nods.

"Sire, it's bad enough you come out here on patrol, it's bad enough that you risk yourself so often," Pylonus said, "we appreciate your love and devotion to us. But we need you more than you need us. You're our hope, our one chance at freedom again."

"And you're the one man we'll all follow," Grilf hefted his ax, shifting from one foot to the other. "We welcome you to our ranks, we are your tools, we are your hands, but we need direction. And so - you can not be wasted out here. Please, allow us to take you back to the How."

"Don't let Ironhoof's sacrifice be in vain," Pylonus pleaded, his large brown eyes under his blond mop of hair, wide and ernest.

At the mention of Glenstorm's younger brother, Caspian felt a stab of guilt, if he hadn't been there, maybe the centaur would have survived. Growling to no one in particular, "How am I to lead if I do not know what each of you has to go through? How are you to trust me to know what is right, if I do not see what goes on daily?" Shaking his head, Caspian raked his good hand through his dirty hair, "I cannot lead effectively without understanding all of this. I do not have the experience... And I cannot fail, for many reasons."

Pylonus and Grilf shared a look, and the minotaur came closer, towering over Caspian, "Your Highness, to do that you must live. I am taking you back to the How. You may court martial me later, but if I have to throw you over my shoulder I will do it."

"Is that how it is then?" angry, hand resting on his hilt.

Four more minotaurs, a couple fauns and one huge Eagal who landed to bob his head, crowded Caspian, not allowing him freedom to draw steel, "Yes Your Highness, that is how it is."

Gritting his teeth, "Fine. Bring me Destrier." Without the aid offered, despite the agony in shoulder and thigh, Caspian swung up, "Lead on then. But you will be punished."

Grilf bowed his head, "And I accept it, I pledged my life and my honour to you Your Highness, and I will see you safe to the How, no matter the cost, for I am but one soldier, you are all of them."

Caspian had to admire him for his willpower, even if he was enraged at the situation. Insubordination was a dangerous thing, and if his men thought they could coddle him, could order him about like this, then some examples had to be made. Even if Caspian didn't like that thought much. Grilf's loss would be felt out here on the eastern front, for he was obviously more astute than Caspian had given him credit for. And he could use every man like that he could get. Nudging Destrier with his knees gently, he moved out with his small guard.

XXX

Susan was frightened, then she was angry, then she was frightened again. Caspian had fled her bed, their bed, and that hurt. But now what hurt more was finding out that the day he'd been wounded, Caspian had been drawing away an enemy group, taking on a five to one number, and leading them into an unplanned ambush, using another patrol for backup. It was a wonder he'd only been injured mildly considering he'd only been dressed for light skirmishing - just his thick brigandine and no mail. And now she had no clue where he was. Beside herself with worry, Susan bumped into Glenstorm.

"Oh! I'm so sorry Glenstorm, are you okay?" looking up from where she'd managed to trip over her skirts, falling onto her butt.

"Your Highness, I am fine, here," he leaned down, taking her hand, "tell me, where were you dashing off to so fast?"

Blushing, "Oh nowhere." Then she noticed the honorific, "I'm not royalty Glenstorm, I'm not even a lady. Just plain old Susan Pevensie here. Mistress to a jerk."

The observant commander raised an eyebrow, obviously picking up on the sadness Susan felt. His hand landed atop her shoulder, urging her to come along with him, "You worry over him."

"Well don't you? I haven't had any word in days, I don't know where he is and no one will tell me anything..."

Quiet, then the lyrical rumble, "He is on the eastern front, patrolling with Ironhoof."

That stopped her cold in her tracks, "He's what?

"He's patrolling on the eastern front with Ironhoof," pausing as he glanced over a massive shoulder.

Shaking her head, "I heard you the first time. Is he stupid or something?"

"Maybe you should ask him that when he returns," resuming his walk.

Snorting, "I ask him that all the time, and he usually doesn't answer me. Probably doesn't have the brainpower to come up with one that won't make him sound even more an imbecil." She knew she sounded worried, and Susan gratefully accepted Glenstorm's proffered hand for comfort, "Oh Morningdew should've heard from our spies by now, why didn't she tell me?"

"Spies? I was wondering where all the extra information was coming from," the centaur's hand was calloused and warm.

Realizing her slip up, "Shit."

"Don't worry, I've suspected for a few days, my mate tends to forget that just because I'm male doesn't mean I'm a... what's your word? Yes, an imbecil," chuckling.

Blushing, Susan looked up at him, "You won't tell will you? You know he'll just try and interfere and micromanage, he already does too much."

"Tell me what makes a good mate, what do you think of such things Your Highness?"

"I'm not a princess Glenstorm," frowning up at him, still holding his hand.

"As you say, Your Highness," and she realized Glenstorm was baiting her. Or at least she thought he was.

"Are you teasing me?"

"Possibly, I'll answer your question if you answer mine. What makes a good mate?" moving through the halls.

"A good spouse supports the other where they are weak, that's what I think," tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And watches the other's back, tries to understand them even if it's hard."

"Anything else?" his voice was soothing. Susan wondered if he sang, and if so, how wonderful it'd sound.

"Well, to do your best to be there and be strong for them, to accept them when no one else will, to look beneath things to find the truth and not shy away from it," shrugging, "love is what most people say, but there's a lot more to it than that. It's about being responsible and about being strong and weak too. It's about trust."

"How old are you, Your Highness?"

"Hey, that's another question!" Glenstorm gave her a look, and Suan sighed, "Seventeen, why?"

"Caspian is twenty-three, and has had twenty-two years of being a Telmarine under his belt, what do you think of that?" Glenstorm was leading her further back into the How than she'd ever gone before. Susan looked about curiously.

Shrugging, "I think he could use a swift kick to the head most of the time, not that it'd help." Before Glenstorm could ask, "I think he needs someone he feels safe with, that he can relax around really. For a minute or two there," looking down at the floor, Susan's brows furrowed, "I thought that might be me. But everytime I do, he just.. just up and runs away, or is downright nasty to me. I want to hate him, and I want to be there when he hurts. Basically I'm confused."

"Between the two of you, you're the one who can think long term, you're the one who sees what's around you, yet I do not think you see everything Your Highness," and then Susan realized they were in a cubbyhole of an area.

The scent of horse and copper and man and leather was thick here, and in the corner were a cloak and blanket, someone's sleeping place. Caspian's sleeping place. And all around papers, a few carvings, a half mended harness, and bits of armour. Releasing Glenstorm's hand Susan walked around, examing everything carefully before touching the things that were strewn about. This little hole was where Caspian slept when Susan practically lived in absolute luxury comparatively. With great care, Suan picked up a few pieces of paper, most of them just normal reports and such, but in sharply slanted neat script were questions, and his musings as to what her take would be on various measures and remedies. Gathering her skirts in one hand, Susan ducked down, having to bend double to get to the corner where Caspian would rest, and she realized he'd have to get in almost on hands and knees to fit in. Plopping down, Susan quietly dug around, somehow managing to resist the overhwelming urge to pick up and smell his blanket. Something poked her leg, it was tangled in the cloak, and when Susan pulled it out, her eyes widened. It was a figurine of a girl, no longer than her palm, dancing it looked like, in a pair of pants and a fluttering tunic. Examining it closely, there was a tiny scratch on her cheek, barely etched into the wood. The wood had been polished and rubbed with oil, giving it a warm glow. Searching, Susan found more such carvings, most of them of the same thing - a girl doing this or that. With no thought whatsoever Susan knew it was her, all of them were her. Becoming frantic, Susan began to gather them all up, as well as piling his papers in a neat stack. Caspian didn't belong in this tiny little hole while she slept in comfort, and a tear or two threatened to fall.

She hated how much she'd cried since she'd come here to Narnia, it wasn't like her, but there was so much pain around her, that Susan couldn't help it. And this place reeked of misery, of an anguish she'd never fully understand. Somehow she'd become the one comfort this man had, a man who'd had to kill his mother, a man who'd had to kill his father, and live in hell. Yes she still hated him at times, but not really Caspian, more how he was. The dreams made sense now, the ones about a good Caspian, smiling and happy. That's how he should be, it was her subconsciousness telling her that. Being Telmarine was choking him, destroying him. Hurting him. Susan wouldn't tolerate it, and if that man couldn't get it through his thick skull she'd bash it in with kindness until he did. As well as the occasional insult and maybe a smack to grab his attention.

Glenstorm's back was turned, guarding the little aperture that entered Caspian's space. This was a private thing, and Susan was glad he let her have this new knowledge. Ultimately Susan was a fixer, and she'd do what she could. Gathering it all up, partially mended harness, the couple sets of clothes, and all, into his cloak and blanket, clutching the stack of papers in her other hand, Susan wriggled back to where she could stand.

Announcing, "Caspian's things are to go to his room, and from now on, all reports are to be brought there. I'd like a desk put in for him, a proper one if one can be found. Is that alright?"

"Of course Your Highness," Glenstorm seemed pleased, though not overtly.

Together they walked back to her room, all the while Susan mulled things over. She'd have to figure out a plan of attack on this problem. Of course she didn't like him, she wasn't sure she ever would, but Susan did find herself becoming fond of him. Otherwise she wouldn't worry so damnably much over the brute. Annoyed with herself though, Susan finally noticed that the bastard had gotten under her skin. There was nothing to do for it though, just as there was nothing to do for the fact that she was stuck in Narnia. And like always when there was no way out, Susan just made the best of it. While protesting loudly and violently, so other situations didn't think that she was easy pickings. No need to invite further difficulties she couldn't get out of.

The meager pile of belongings was placed with tender care on her pallet for sorting later, now she had to go find Morningdew, see if any reports had come in about Caspian's patrol.

"M'lady!" Rosetta burst in, frantic, hands wringing.

"Rosetta? What's wrong?" rushing over to her.

"Outside, oh no outside there's trouble!"

"Show me," becoming no-nonsense, brisk and efficient, like when Lucy or Edmund would come running to her when they had a problem.

They were practically running, and in came a huge minotaur, one Susan had never seen before, and on his back was a pale Caspian, bleeding profusely. Two healers were trying to get the minotaur to set him down so they could look him over, but Susan interrupted.

"Sir Minotaur, please, follow me. Rosetta, get me a satyr who's got the skill with music, he'll need something soothing, you," pointing at one of the healers, "bring your kit to our room. And you," now the other one, "see to anyone else's injuries!"

"My lady," the minotaur rolled in his deep voice, "there are no other survivors."

"I see, here, allow me to help?"

The great beast shook his head, in obvious pain from his own wounds, "I will carry him, it was my charge to see him to safety."

Nodding, Susan led the way, shutting down all the terrified parts of her mind. They had no place here. This was a crisis, and she'd never been in a real crisis, she always had thought preventing Peter from being beaten half to death was a big deal, but it paled in comparison. But it did provide the basis for her calm, calm was what would save Caspian, just as calm was what would allow her to break up the fights.

"Sir minotaur, please tell me your name," becoming the eye in the storm, Susan exerted her sphere of serenity past herself.

"Grilf of the Kino Clan, Your Highness," it was like his vocal cords were grinding mountains it was such a deep rumble.

"Well Grilf of the Kino, I thank you for seeing Caspian here, yes just, here let me help a bit," as Grilf tried to gently lay Caspian down, "and now - you go rest, have the other healer see to those wounds. Glenstorm will see you shortly for debriefing if you are still awake. Your honour," taking his large hairy paw in hers, "has been seen to. Thank you." Half curtsying to him, which seemed to put the large being into a state of awe, before Susan ushered him out. The room wasn't big enough for too many people. "Rosetta, get Jumbletot, then come back here, I'll need your help."

"Yes m'Lady!"

Susan cracked out orders this way and that, making sure things were seen to her way. When she sent Jumbletot to tell Glenstorm to talk to Grilf, to debrief the minotaur, she also told him to check for any other possible survivors along with a fast patrol of fighters headed by Morningdew to scout for any enemies nearby.

It took hours that felt like centuries to get Caspian cleaned and stitched up. The whole time Caspian was out like a light, a nasty knot on the back of his head probably reason coupled with bloodloss. There'd been a few gasps when everyone realized the extent of Caspian's scars, and Susan who'd never really had a good look at him almost screamed in horrified rage - what sort of people could do that to another? - but she'd contained it. Between the healer, Rosetta and Nikabrik who'd shown up, Susan couldn't afford to let them see her worry. Glancing over at Nikabrik, she wasn't sure if she liked the black dwarf or not. Something seemed off about him, yet Rosetta was comfortable with him, so Susan kept up her apparent aura relaxation.

"What I want to know," Nikabrik's voice was grating on Susan's nerves, she still held it against him that he'd given her such an ungentle welcome into this place, "is why everyone jumps when she says so."

"Nikabrik I didn't see you doing anything," Rosetta gave him a glare. They both probably thought they were quiet. Well they weren't.

"I remember when she was supposed to be a spy, maybe she is," and Susan could feel his suspicious glower.

Speaking up, "If I was a spy then by now I would have killed Caspian." Not looking at the duo, "Frankly even though I'm not, there's times I wouldn't mind taking a paddle to him, but I wouldn't actually hurt him." Sighing softly, Susan lay the back of her hand on his forehead, checking to see if he'd started warming up, "I don't want anything to happen to anyone, sure maybe a beating or two to those who deserve it, but in general Nikabrik I have no interest in seeing anyone harmed. Ever. In fact, it makes me want to add you to the list of 'those who need a paddling' that you think that of me." Regally Susan gathered herself, rising to her feet, "But would I ever let you be hurt if I could help it? No, never would I wish actual harm to befall you. Maybe a swift kick in the head from a centaur or something, but actual harm, no. And you'd better get that through your head."

Nikabrik just stared at her in irritated surprise, "Well I guess that settles it then."  
"Yes, yes it does," snapping at him. "Now I know you're his friend, just like two of a kind - like how every ass needs two cheeks to make them a proper hole, and I take no issue with that, but if you're going to be a pest you can just go suck on eggs," allowing some of her piss and vinegar to come out. With some people that's all they'd respect. "Now, Rosetta, do you think in a few hours you could bring me some thick broth? Maybe some bread with honey, for incase he wakes up, otherwise I'll get him to sip some of the soup, he doesn't necessarily need to be awake for that."

"Certainly m'Lady," her friend got up, dragging Nikabrik with her.

Sighing in relief, Susan rubbed her temples. Neaten up, yes that's what she should do now, ignore that horrible aching twisting in her stomach. Taking deep breaths to keep herself steady, Susan placed Caspian's collection of carvings on the desk she'd requested earlier. Well it wasn't a 'real' desk, not to Susan at least, but it was definately more desk-like than just a sturdy table. She'd even placed neat stacks of his papers, and made a note to herself to see if she could find two baskets - for read and unread missives. Or something like that. Choking for a moment as it all overwhelmed her, she covered her mouth, a hand clutching at the corner of the table as she sank to her knees. Caspian was hurt, really hurt, and in so many more ways than she'd thought. Finding herself questioning every exchange she'd had with him, Susan tried to figure out if how she had acted towards him had made more damage.

Frankly she couldn't see how it hadn't. Yes he'd hurt her, god had he hurt her, shying away from the memory that still made her wake up in the middle of the night terrified he was coming for her again. But she'd tried to get over it, there was no changing what had happened, and while Susan was sure that horror could always happen again, somehow it didn't seem so likely anymore. Scooting so her back was against one of the desk's legs, Susan closed her eyes, wrapping her arms about herself, not even aware anymore of how the corset restricted her movements. Caspian was strong physically, his endurance was obviously astounding, almost on par with his insane ability to shove pain away - but only the physical kind. On the otherhand Susan knew what it was to have a good home, she had a strength he didn't, and it was a sudden epiphany, that knowledge. As dirty and disgusting as he made her feel sometimes, she didn't let it stop her from doing things, from trying to live, but Caspian? He was clammed up tighter than anything she'd ever come across, and each time he'd realized he'd opened up - he fled. Always fleeing. It was his only way of coping.

And she'd probably made everything worse with how she'd treated him. All the insults, all the yelling, all the accusations. But he still reached out his hand to her shyly, even if it was in the most screwed up method known to man. Still he tried, all the while she smacked it away, well - not always. Sometimes she reached back, and grabbed him close, faster than he could deal. These things had to change, time for her to be the grownup everyone treated her as. Take responsibility for him the way she did for Peter, Edmund and Lucy. Gasping for air, Susan let the jerking sobs take her, and she felt like all she ever did anymore was cry, but she had to release all this somehow. Hadn't she always told Lucy that a good cry helped?

A groan made the shakes stop immediately, and Susan scrambled over to Caspian who was waking up it seemed, "Shit... Here already...?"

"I see you have your usual sense of humour - none," Susan forced a smile as she touched his cheek.

He jerked away as though stung, eyes blazing suddenly as they popped open all the way, "Get away from me woman."

Hurt, Susan flinched, "And you're obviously in a good mood."

Caspian struggled to get up, and Susan helped him, despite his hand trying to shove her away, "I said get away from me woman!"

"No," deciding to make it difficult for him, Susan slipped behind his back, and yanked him to her so his head rested on her chest, "you're injured you know. Then again you are dumb as a rock, positively unobservant as horsepiss." Unable to stop the mocking, after all he was hurting her, and it was not in her to just be meek, "Actually rocks are more intelligent, you're more like a walnut when it comes to brain power. You know I've actually met some fairly intelligent rocks since I've been here." Caspian was sweating profusely, pushing his body when he shouldn't and Susan was getting irritated with him, "Now you listen here Caspian, you stop this foolishness at once, or I'll truss you up like I was when first brought here!"

"You... you would not dare!" enraged growling, disbelief painting his face.

"Try me Caspian," cocking her head she mulled it over aloud. "Seeing as you owe me at least a few good beatings for the stuff you've done, maybe I should give you a taste of your own hospitality?" Tapping her chin, Susan also kept the palm of one hand on the center of his chest, making it harder for him to get away, "Though I won't rape you, that'd be terrible. Plus I don't really have the right equipment. Maybe just strip you and keep you in bed for a while, hands bound? That sound's about right - I don't think anyone would notice, do you? Afterall you're gone so much lately."

"Argh!" heaving his chest and shoulders, his head snapped back almost nailing Susan in the face. "Get. Away. From. Me! I should kill you, I will kill you!"

Cradling him closer inspite of his writhing, Susan kissed his temple, pressing her face to his, "You can do it later. When you're healed Caspian. Just... relax, I'm not going to hurt you. But Iwill have someone pin you down and tie you up for me if I have to. In fact I asked a few people about it, and they thought it was a good suggestion if you were too troublesome."

One dark eye rolled back, wide as he grimaced, teeth bared, "No one will do it if I order them not to."

"Oh? You think so? A little birdie told me they had to drag you kicking and screaming from the front line, frankly I think Grilf deserves a medal," stroking his hair, which seemed to calm him, though he fought the effect. "All those men died Caspian trying to keep you safe. And here you are, ungrateful, trying to tear your wounds open. I won't allow it Caspian. There's no way I'll let their sacrifice go to waste. I can barely stand you, but I won't let you ruin everyone's chance at freedom because you're a selfish prat. I'm no soldier, I'm not one of your troops to order about. So I'll do as I please in this, because this room's my domain until you decide to reside here. Actually," nuzzling behind his ear, "I already had your things moved back here."

"What... what?" panting, fatigue catching up with him, his movements feeble. It didn't fool Susan though - he was probably just gathering strength, so she had to keep him off balance so he'd rest.

"I said I had your things moved back here, I figure if you're going to fuck me everynight, I want to at least wake up next to you," hand making slow circles on his chest, careful of his wounded shoulder. "Frankly I think I've been rather tolerant. I'm not some hussy for you to screw then leave. I demand some respect from you, and if you give it, then I'll give it back. That's how this is going to work. You're the one who started it, and I'm tired of your stupid games, so I'll damn well make sure it's finished," he was calming, whether he wanted to or not, keeping her voice low and soothing. Light and firm in one. "I'm not one of your barbarian whores Caspian, and I expect, no - I demand - you to follow through on it. So I belong to you, well that means you belong to me Caspian, at least sometimes. And you may not like it, well that's okay - I don't like you so that makes us even - but that is how things will be from now on. Fight all you want, all you'll be doing is cutting off your nose to spite your face. And how childish and weak is that? Frankly I think that's rather cowardly."

Susan had made her decision, Caspian may have forced her into this situation, but she was damn well going to see it through. Never could it be said that Susan Pevensie shirked her duties and responsibilities, and no where would it ever be implied that she didn't take charge of situations when they arose - because she was Susan Pevensie, of a nice middle class home, of a nice moral family and that was that.

"You had no right to do that," growling, trying to still her hand where it massaged the lightly defined lines of his chest, tracing a scar there.

Susan stiffened at his choiceof words, they stung, "No right to do that? Oh you listen here," pulling away from him, Susan leaned over him, pressing Caspian into the pallet, "You want to talk about someone having no right?" Baring her teeth at him the same way he was, getting down and dirty on his at times anamalistic level, "You had no right to hurt me. Not ever, no one ever gave you that ability. You just took it! Because you thought you could! Well - you had no right to tear me in half like that. Not when I was helpless and begging you to stop - you don't know what it was like, it was worse than any strike, any blow! I felt invaded in a way so personal and horrifying that you have no concept. Then you had no right at all." It was a struggle to not haul back and hit him until he knew how badly he'd hurt her. Here was her chance to tell him, and make him listen, but she hadn't wanted to do this while he was helpless to defend himself. It was apparent though that this may be her only chance, and it may be the only time he could be forced to hear her. "What's worse? The fact that you hurt me? Or the fact that later on - you forced me, took me, and made me like it. No choice, none at all - I couldn't stop you, and I couldn't stop the fact that you knew how to touch me so it felt good. All my rights as a person were taken away, you almost destroyed me Caspian. Keep threatening to kill me, that's not what I fear. That day I pretty much died, and I had to pick myself back up, put myself back together - because I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of knowing you had that power over me. And you had no right to do a lick of that to me. None."

"I had every right," but it came out soft.

"Why? Because you thought I was a spy? You're beatings were enough to find out anything you wanted to know, and those were bad enough for me." Shaking her head, Susan found herself wanting to just be held and told everything would be alright, "But you just had to take it to the next step, to prove that you had the ultimate power, something worse than life or death. I'm a good girl Caspian, I had a chance at a good life once, and you took it from me simply because you felt like it. No one has that right," getting up, Susan walked over to the table she'd worked from so often, fighting for calm. This wasn't supposed to be about her getting back at him, this wasn't supposed to be Susan's Ranting Hour. It was supposed to be helping him heal, because if he could be healed, if others could be healed - maybe she could be too. Back in Finchley Susan had wanted to be healed of loneliness and doldrum. Here, Susan had real hurts that needed mending, but she went about it the same way as always. Help others first and maybe someone will reward her by holding open arms for her to fall into and cry in. "Caspian you will lay back down this instant," firmly after several minutes, having a feeling that he'd started getting up.

"No, I am leaving. I do not wish to be in your presence," it sounded tired. "Where are my clothes?"

"If you walk out that door Caspian, it'll be naked as the day you were born," keeping her back to him, methodically shoving away everything in her mind, and focusing on her penmanship. "And when you leave the room, someone will just haul you back here. Now how humiliating will that be? Big scary Prince Caspian, Crown Prince and Heir to the Narnian-Telmarine throne, running away from a woman. Not even a woman really Caspian, I'm seventeen. Did you know that?" Licking a fingertip then leafing through a few pages of reports, "Of course you didn't, you never thought to ask. Then again you had what was it? Twenty-two years raised amongst monsters and barbarians, so of course your manners are lacking. But I'd think that a year amongst civilized people would have at least had some positive effect on you."

"Woman you are an insufferable bitch, do you know that?" dragging limp scuffs from his bare feet.

"Well what can I say? You have that effect on me," turning to look at him finally as he searched for something to wear. Susan winced and wanted to run to him, and rub her hands all over his back and hips to smooth away the scars there. The remembered pains he must have buried deep inside. "You know what hurts the worst Caspian?" He grunted, and she'd take what she could get, so she continued, "Seeing others hurt. Seeing others in pain. Any kind of pain."

"Then I shall take my leave of you once I find my clothes so you will not have to see it," pointedly.

Getting up, Susan approached him, and touched the backs of his shoulders, feeling the thick matting of scar tissue there, making Caspian jump a bit in startlement, "But I'll still know Caspian. And besides - the only clothes in this room currently are mine. Now while I'm sure you have a trim enough waist to fit into one of my dresses, I don't think the look would suit you."

Slowly he turned, looking down at her, his eyes wild, "Woman, just... leave me alone!"

Shaking her head, Susan wrapped her arms around his torso, "No. When I asked you to leave me alone - what did you do? You pestered me and bothered me ceaselessly. Well," standing on tiptoe Susan managed to kiss his chin, "time to take your own medicine. So be a big boy and come to bed with me. Please?"

"Why? Why are you doing this?" desperate, searching for some way out.

"I'll ask myself that question tomorrow, but right now, I want you to come to bed, to rest, let me... let me take care of you," helping him along.

"No, I am not some babe to be coddled," the edge was gone from his voice, but she could hear Caspian fighting to get it back.

"What will it take to get you to come to bed? It's been days Caspian, don't you... have needs?" pressing up against him, Susan wasn't experienced in the art of flirting or of seduction, and now she wished she was. Because that may be the way to get him to do what she wanted. Blushing Susan ran her fingertip over his hip, dragging it down that tendon of muscle that dipped in a V towards his groin, "I'd be glad to do anything you wanted."

God she felt brazen and whorish, but if that's what she had to be to take care of the situation - she'd use what tools she had.

Caspian's breathing sped up, but his hands clamped on her shoulders, pushing her away, though Susan could feel him hardening against her skirts, "No. You have nothing I want, and I will leave your damnable presence woman."

Biting her lip Susan thought rapidly, of course she could do what she'd threatened - truss him up like the pig he was. Well boar. He was definitely being something swine-ish right now. More so than usual. There was only so much she'd do... well no that wasn't true, she'd made her mind up and that meant she'd do pretty much anything. "Alright, how about you stay in the bed tonight? I'll just curl up with a blanket on the floor."

"Why?"

Sighing, "Because."

"Always with 'because' as an answer," Caspian snorted, his fingers twitching.

Sparing him a glance, Susan pulled out his blanket and cloak from her trunk, and went to the corner she used to sleep in millennia ago, "Go to sleep Caspian. You can have me killed after you're healed. For now I'm going to take care of you, so you might as well resign yourself to it. Oh, and Hitastik has orders to not unbolt the door from the other side unless I tell him, so - you're stuck with me for now."

Spreading out his blanket and double folding it for some bit of padding, Susan then straightened up, mucking with the ties to her dress so she wouldn't get it too dirty. Hopefully the bit of blood that was already on it would come out, but Susan doubted it. There were a few curses, then sounds of Caspian making his way to the bed, and laying down once more. Susan hid her smile of satisfaction at that, accepting the small victory. Dragging the material of her dress over her head, Susan neatly folded it, then loosened the ties on her corset, but left it on deciding to ignore the discomfort sleeping in it would bring, because it was an extra layer for warmth. Rolling herself up in Caspian's cloak, Susan inhaled his scent hungrily. At some point it had come to symbolize stability if not safety.

Laying awake, Susan watched as Caspian settled down to sleep, his good arm (good was a very relative term in this case, he'd been cut and slashed up pretty bad, and the news from Grilf was that he'd taken two arrows when initially injured, prior to the extra gashes) slung over his eyes. Sands trickled through Time's glass, and then Caspian turned his head in her direction. Susan hooded her eyes, feigning sleep. Then when he seemed satisfied she was out like a light, he rose once more, and headed to the desk with his carvings positioned over the top. His hand wrapped around one in particular, the one of her in trews that she'd found in his 'bed', and he went back to the pallet.

For a good bit of time, Susan watched as he stroked the wood, a bemused and angry look on his face. Studying him like she'd never bothered to before, Susan realized he wasn't just handsome, but he was beautiful. Not conventionally so, not like Harry Tildsten from Peter's class, but different. Raw and natural - like the forest that Morningdew took her for rides through. Wild, yes that was a good word for him. Long fingers moved over each dip and curve of the carving, sure, as though he'd done this many times.

"You know that one's my favorite," she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear her.  
He tensed, hands trying to tuck it away, "I did not know you spoke in your sleep."

Getting up, still wrapped up in the heavy wool, her bare feet pattered on the stone, and she sat next to him on the pallet, "Then I must sleepwalk too."

"Go away," turning his head to look in the opposite direction.

"I was scared earlier," not moving any nearer to him, but wanting to see if she could show him that it was okay to open up to her. She'd open up to him so he would know. "I didn't know where you were, and I don't like you, I really don't, you're an asshole, but I did miss you. I'm used to you, and I feel... safer I suppose when you're around. The other night when you came to me, it dawned on me that you could have died." Reaching out, she tucked some of his hair behind an ear, "And that frightened me Caspian, I'm not sure why entirely, but it did. You may view that as a woman's weakness, and maybe it is, but your men fear for you as well as the female half of your troops. So, I think men have fear too, and that it's okay." Leaning over Susan kissed his temple, and started to get back up, but Caspian turned his head, in wordless request.

His hand came up, tangling in her hair, when Susan stroked his mouth with her lips, holding her to him. Caspian's tongue pushed between her lips, licking her teeth, then further in, and Susan sighed through her nose, allowing him whatever he needed to heal. Maybe one day she'd be okay if she could just help him, and possibly he may find it in himself to help her too.

"Off," he muttered, tugging at her corset, "take it off." But he didn't really allow her much space to fulfill his request, as Caspian lifted his shoulders off the bed so he could continue plundering her mouth, demanding and taking.

Fumbling Susan did as he ordered, while scooting closer to him, and once she managed to get free of it, Caspian pushed his covers off enough to reveal his manhood, thick and hard where it twitched in time to his heartbeat. Unsure of what he wanted, what he needed, Susan pulled away blushing.

Licking her lips, "Wh...what do you want me to do?"

"Suck me," his hand wrapping around the base of his cock, the other tugging on her neck, directing her down to his erection.

[REDACTED TO BE IN COMPLIANCE WITH FFN POLICY. Complete chapter resides on Archive of Our Own]

At a loss of what to do now, Susan told the good girl that was mortified by her actions this night and the fact that she'd willingly done this at all to go screw herself. Ducking her head, Susan waited, asking herself what to do now. Caspian seemed more relaxed, which was the whole point, but still. Should she get up and go back to her spot? Or should she lay next to him, cuddling up?

Whispering, "Caspian?" wincing at how shy she sounded suddenly.

"Mph, what?" his arm thrown once more over his face.

"Would you like me to go back to my corner?" hoping that by offering to do the thing she didn't want to do, he'd allow her to stay close to him.

"That would be my preference, yes," gusty sigh, "But you wish to stay here. You may, just do not touch me."

Hanging her head, Susan got up instead after recovering him with the blankets, tucking the cloak about herself as she headed back to the corner. Looked like she'd spend the night on the floor.

She could live with that for awhile.


	8. Chapter 8

Caspian had regained his blood and no longer had to fight constant fatigue, but his body still protested. It'd take months to heal fully, but that's how things went. Overall it was a minor concern, soon enough he'd be good for field combat and patrols once more. That would be a relief after a month of only light work. Susan came swishing in, hair pinned up messily that fell from the mound she'd wrapped it in atop her head, so that long tendrils curled all around her face and neck. A basket filled with clean bedding rested upon her hip, and Rosetta followed on her heels with more washing.

Shifting in his chair, Caspian pointedly ignored their presence, his fingers moving over his sword with sure strokes of the whetstone. Rosetta was supposed to tell him how Susan's day went - when of course the object of interest was nowhere around - but he'd stopped asking, and had ordered her to just attend to Susan's needs and not bother him with such nonsensical matters. And then there was Susan, the troublesome enigma. Suddenly everything had changed seemingly overnight. It left him feeling lost and confused, particularly when he would wake to have Susan ready to do whatever he wished. On at least two mornings he'd become aware and started moving around in time to have Susan come over from her simple blanket and cloak bed to offer him oral pleasure immediately. Not only that but she may still snipe at him, but not the same way, more of a way that let him know that life wasn't to be easy, yet it had become just that.

And every night before he'd go to sleep she'd talk to him, telling him about either her childhood, or her fears. Or the things she once hoped for. She'd wanted to go to something called 'university' where people studied many subjects, and that her interest was in history. Telmarine women weren't even supposed to read, though a few did. Which was odd - he hadn't thought it strange that she could read at first until he remembered that. So used to the Narnians he'd become that the notion of women reading and writing wasn't repulsive at all. At least her penmanship had improved. At odd moments he'd look up to see her watching him, a small frown on her face, as though he were some puzzle she were trying to figure out. That was even more frightening, because if she ever realized how weak he was against her, she could break him and rule him. Caspian couldn't allow that.

So he watched her still, but more furtively, careful to not get caught. Rosetta left after giving Susan a hug, and then Susan came closer to him, but not too close. Really if she were fifty furlongs from him it'd be too close. The craving was making his hands tremor and it was getting hard to ignore her, especially when she turned away from him, pulling the pins from her hair. Caspian watched from the corner of his eye the way sections of it came down, and he wanted to bury his fingers in it while his buried his cock inside her.

"Grilf is heading out to command another one of the patrol parties tomorrow, don't you think you should say something to him?" picking up a comb that he'd carved for her, smoothing out her locks with it.

She didn't know that though, couldn't know that, would never know that. Busy, he always had to keep his hands busy now. There was a time when he could stay still, but not anymore. Closing his eyes, Caspian hunched over his blade, concentrating. "It is enough that I do not have him hung for insubordination. I shall not reward him for it, it would give the troops ideas."

"Why?"

Caspian glanced at her, she wasn't quite facing him, but only a bit so he saw her in profile, "Because he disobeyed my wishes, he should be hung."

"Then I should be hung a thousand times," fingers parting and plaiting sections out of the way, weaving it all together into some mass that she then used several long carved pins - again products of his restless hands - to secure it. "Sometimes I think I was born to drive you batty. Then again you were born to drive me to rage. Before I met you I was fairly placid, but of course I didn't take any shit from anyone. Peter used to think it was good sport to see if he could rile me. Well it happened enough times he learned his lesson. Mostly by beating it into him, sweet little Su has a nasty right hook - just so you know. But I wonder if you ever will?" throwing him a smile over her shoulder.

Shuddering, who was this creature that had replaced the harriden he'd come to know? It was the same voice, it was the same body, it was the same smiles - but they were directed at him, and that kept Caspian unbalanced.

"By the way, thank you," as she bent over to start reading reports.

Silent, that's how he'd become, hiding from her. Him, a Telmarine, hiding from a mere slip of a girl. No, a woman, because what sat only a bit behind him was definitely all woman. Probably the only real one he'd ever seen. Deciding that he could put no more edge to his sword without making it paper thin, Caspian smoothed a rag down it, cleaning off the excess oil. Rubbing his temples, Caspian struggled to figure out what to do. Susan had come to some decision about him, but he didn't know what it was. Or why it would make her act the way she did.

Sighing, "What for?"

"Hmm? Oh! The pins, they're beautiful," sounding distracted. "I really appreciate them. Who knew you were good for something useful?"

Wincing, Caspian got up, stretching, debating going to bed, but if he did he'd be close enough to catch Susan's scent, what with the smaller table being so close to the pallet. He wondered momentarily if she'd planned that. Shaking it off, no she couldn't have. Other than the trunk, his desk, and a third table that they took dinner from, there was no new furniture and none of it had been moved from wherever he'd had it put. Clenching his teeth, Caspian almost yelled at her, almost went over and started shaking her, trying to figure out what the hell kind of game she was playing at. For all her accusations of him being the one to play games - well Susan certainly had picked something, and it was messing with his head.

"I am going out," raising a hand to forestall the question he knew she would ask, as he buckled his swordbelt.

"I haven't practiced in awhile," the statement was half demand, half request, and something else too - an offer. All atop the fact that it was merely the truth.

"You may do so some other time," tugging at his jerkin, trying to make it settle, and for some reason it just didn't seem to want to cooperate.

"When?" there was a scrape from her chair, and then her clothes-chest creaked when she opened it. "I'm only allowed to practice when you're the one guarding me. Afterall I may just take it into my head to go haring off in a land I don't know, and tell some nasty fuckers who I'm told won't be letting me out for nice strolls, where this place is." Fabric crinkled and slithered, and Caspian had to get the image of her slipping it over her head, because it was driving him insane, "So since it's your bright idea that I can't -"

"Then have Morningdew accompany you," snapping, throwing a glare her way. And his jaw dropped. He had never seen her in that dress, it shimmered softly, just barely, a pale creamy mint green at the bodice that bled into blue at the hem. "Where did you get that?" growling, managing to cover up his awe and surprise at how it made her glow, at how it brought out the pink in her cheeks, at how extra full and luscious those lips looked, at how soft a golden brown her freckles were.

"It was in the trunk, I found it there the other day," shrugging, pulling on a short cloak and threading an arm through the neck, so the chain of the closure crossed her breasts, making a 'X' when coupled with her quiver and bow. "I would ask if it made my butt look big, but I don't think you would get the reference."

"It is hideous," lying flat out.

Susan came up next to him, cocking her head, "So? It's clothing Caspian, and it's comfortable. Now, take me for some practice. Maybe you could hack at a tree. Or maybe carve a nice wooden stake for you to sit on."

"How about I carve a nice club for you instead?" jerking his arm out of her grip.

"Oh really?" she bounced up and down a bit, mockingly clapping her hands like a small child, which drew his eyes to her bosom, and it seemed that his initial assessment of a few months ago was correct. The corset did do dazzling things to her chest. "Goody goody! I can beat you with it!"

"You seem to be operating under the impression that I wish you to come with me," Caspian stiffened his back, tilting his face forward, as he scowled at her. It was the kind that made everyone he'd ever directed it at have a tendency to do whatever ordered them to. And if his memory wasn't addled, it had made not a few actually lose control of their bodies. Once he'd looked at Miraz that way when he was younger, and his uncle had been taken aback, then ordered him strung up between two posts for four days with only water, and given twenty lashes each morning, and each night, of those four days.

Susan just looked at him expectantly, and Caspian then allowed more of the irritation he felt show through, curling his lip.

And still she just looked at him, huge blue eyes reflecting green sparks from her dress, changing the colour to a faded grass.

Finally Susan cocked her head, frowning, "Are you okay? You look a bit constipated. Maybe I should tell the cooks to give you more greens and veggies," tapping her cheek in thought.  
Shocked, Caspian recoiled, "What is wrong with you woman? I said I do not wish you to accompany me -"

"Who said you had a choice?" her hand went back to the crook of his arm. "Besides you have to speak to Grilf before he leaves tomorrow."

"Woman -" stepping away from Susan.

"If you expect me to respond to what you say in anything resembling the manner you wish, you had best start using my name," fingers dug into his bicep, and Caspian noticed for once that she was actually quite strong. Either that or she was getting stronger.

Covering his eyes, then rubbing the sore orbs, Caspian felt a tension headache forming, "Susan, let go of me. Now."

"After I went to all this trouble pissing you off? No," then she set about trying to drag him after her. "Come along then," likening it to the image of dwarf dragging a minotaur - though Caspian wasn't sure at the moment which of them was the minotaur or the dwarf - Susan gave him a little kick to his ankle, causing him to hop and curse, making it easier for her to haul him off.

It was humiliating. Susan walked side by side with him looking for Grilf, and she looked every inch royalty. Not only was it embarrassing to know he was being controlled, by a woman no less, but it was infuriating. She had the audacity to treat him like this. And look beautiful doing it. Allowing his eyes to drift down to her, Susan's simple loveliness radiated from her like sunshine. Everyone they passed got a smile or a nod, she was lord of all she surveyed inside the How, and Caspian was almost entirely forgotten in the various waves and greetings. The knowledge that she complimented him physically in presence was no comfort at all, in fact it was a greater horror. He was the backbone and muscle, darkly handsome - Caspian wasn't vain by any means, but he was aware of that aspect of himself. While she was... everything else a person could be. Graceful and elegant, as though she'd been raised for this, groomed for this very moment, and it disgusted Caspian.

They weren't even doing anything important, and the charm was turned on full blast. Well no, not full blast - Caspian had seen it, and was thankful he'd not been near enough to get caught in the explosion of her wiles. Not quite three weeks ago Nikabrik, Caspians' cohort in cynicism and disdain, had been dissatisfied with and irritated by Susan. In fact the black dwarf had told him many times to just fuck her a few times, get her out of his system then slit her throat right after he was done. But something had happened, and while Susan still jibed him, there was only sting to it, instead of vitriol. He'd even seen his colleague bow to her with a shy smile.

Unnatural, that's what Susan was. A witch who wove her spell over everyone. They were in a civil war and she acted as though it were a stroll.

"Smile, you'll start scaring them," Susan leaned closer to him, resting her cheek on the side of his arm for a moment, making him look down at her.

Befuddled by the gentleness of her smile, "As you say," and he tried to relax his facial muscles.

That is until he'd realized what had happened. Then scowl came back tenfold, and Susan drew them to an alcove near some of the barracks.

"What's wrong with you?" slim fingers touched his cheek.

Caspian leaned his face away from the caress, "Nothing is wrong other than I am with you. I said I was leaving, yet you insist, nay, demand as though you have the right to, to accompany me. Not only that, but you are leading me to do something that will make me look weak before my men." Shaking his arm in an attempt to free himself from her grasp, "And as though that were not enough, you constantly pester me. You walk about here as though you are the one in control, in charge. Let me remind you," taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, "that I fill that role. Not you. And you would do well to remember that."

Susan just looked at him, something flashing in her eyes, and she let him go, "Okay. Then I'll go talk to Grilf for you. Because he's a good man, and a good soldier. And if you're not man enough to know that sometimes a commander needs to be overruled if he's putting himself in danger... then you're not much of a leader then are you?" Gathering her skirts in one pale hand, "You'd better be where I can find you. I really could use some fresh air and the weight of my bow in my hands. Just for a candlemark or two, please? Then you can go glower and stomp about like a spoilt brat with a temper-tantrum all you please. Just don't do it around them," nodding her chin back the way they had come, "their moral is sapped enough without you making it worse."

Then she spun about on her heel and continued on to find Grilf.

XXX

Smooth curls fell from his hand, his knife scraping over her cruelly. Caspian re-carved the chunk of wood, obliterating his latest attempt at keeping his fidgeting fingers busy. It had morphed from a piece of wood into another damnable piece of trash immortalizing that bitch. Examining the sickness that filled his mind, Caspian sneered. From prisoner to captive to possession to Susan to mistress to Susan, and now to her rightful place: bitch. Slut. Whore. To focus of his thoughts. All of them.

Sitting on a scout ledge, overlooking what would become killing fields if Miraz, no when, the bastard of a swine and his grandfather brought his army, Caspian brooded. He really should take Nikabrik's advice and be rid of her. Nothing but trouble, nothing but a weak point, just waiting to be exploited. Or to exploit him. In his life Caspian had had the monster's share of being exploited and wouldn't tolerate it. Not ever again.

His hands worked while he stared half into the distance, half downwards. Susan had no place here, he'd been foolish to think she did. Look at how she'd overtaken his command, at how troops that were never much for bowing and scraping did so in her presence. It was strange, she must be powerful indeed to have done so much in so short a time without him noticing. Of course she wasn't a spy, she wanted his kingdom for herself, and was using him to get it! Finch-lay and Eegland and Urope - all lies. Those tales of a different life were just that - tales told to lull him. Susan Pevensie - it wouldn't even be her real name. The stories said the White Witch had been impossibly beautiful, so she must be of the same ilk. And the tears she'd cried, she was just an actress, a very good one. As for her taking care of him, oh that was to try and win his heart.

Well he didn't have one, and she'd be surprised when he killed her. Trying to imagine the look in her eyes as life fled, Caspian growled. Something personal, that's what he should do. Lull her, play her game, but only for a few days. Otherwise he was risking being sucked into her power once more. And she wouldn't get away from him. No, not this time. This time he'd do things right. Glancing down Caspian checked his carving, and cursed. Yet another carving of Susan, this time she was kneeling, a hand held out in supplication.

Laughing at the absurdity of it, Caspian held the piece of work up, "Ah yes, you will see soon. Do you think me some addled boy? You can shake your tits and ass at any man and get your way. But not this man, because I am no boy. No slave to such as you." Snapping the head off, Caspian chuckled, a low dark sound, "Easy as that. The wool was over my eyes there for awhile, but now it is gone. And you will pay and pay dearly. You say you fear what happened before, then I shall make it a thousand times worse."

Quieting once more, Caspian stared at the little bit of whittled wood. Then methodically he ragged chunks off of it, destroying any evidence of what it had once looked like. That would be her when he was finished. Unrecognizable as human.

"Caspian?" Susan's voice wafted through the doorway that led to the ledge, still a little ways away.

Grinning to himself, Caspian got up, then smoothed the lines away, "Yes?"

She came through, decked in red, hair loose, "Hi... I wanted to ask if you wanted dinner? Or should I have someone send it up?"

"And you had to come all the way up here to tell me this," grunting, summoning his normal exterior.

"Well yes, I wanted to check on you, you've been acting strange, and I was worried about you," she gazed off into the distance, smoothing her mildly wind tousled hair, "I mean normally you're an asshole, but you've been worse lately. Look," and Susan's focus shifted to him, the power in her earnest eyes forceful, "I know you're mad at me about Grilf. But I was thankful he brought you back. So I had to tell him that, and you should have too. But." A raspberry bright lip was sucked and worried at, "But it's your place when it comes to those decisions. I know I'm just your prisoner, but I care about the Narnians, and I want them to be happy too. So... what I'm trying to say is.. that I'm sorry, and I'll do better, okay? Please don't keep being angry."

Caspian nodded, moving closer to her, "You are correct, I am angry. Disappointed really. I am used to things being a certain way."

"I'm sorry Caspian," Susan was distressed and soft, a far cry from the creature who had had the gall to insult him time and again. And he was ever a fool for having allowed it, for having thought it was amusing. "How abo-"

Cutting her off, Caspian cupped her cheek, tilting her head back, "You can make it up to me tonight," then kissing her. She tasted good, and smelled even better, and felt like heaven. Pulling away, "Tonight."

Yes, tonight. She was too powerful to leave longer than that.

"Okay," hands going to his shoulders, standing on her toes, kissing the corner of his mouth, "are you coming to dinner?"

"Yes, I will be just a moment longer, you go ahead and I shall catch up."

Susan nodded and left, as Caspian watched her pert ass move beneath the skirts, and she didn't turn back to catch his hate filled look. Turning his face towards the setting sun, Caspian let the rays bathn his skin, eyes closed, then he opened them. Yes tonight he'd get rid of the damnable problem, that damnable weakness. He was a Telmarine damnit and would not tolerate such things.

XXX

Caspian groaned, Susan's mouth working that indescribably magic on his cock.

[REDACTED TO COMPLY WITH FFN POLICY. Entire chapter is on AO3 under the same story name.]

Susan was kneeling near him, not quite touching him, "Did.. did you want something else?" she sounded hopeful.

"Yes," nodding, taking her hand, kissing the palm.

"Tell me what you want..." desire had clouded her senses, that was good.

"Stay with me tonight," pulling her down.

Startled, hopeful and confused blue eyes looked up at him, then she was leaning up to kiss him.

Caspian let her, even let himself return it, wrapping her up in his arms. He did have to admit she fit well there, and the weight felt good. Breaking it off before he found himself ensnared, Susan's temptation was so great that Caspian had to stop right then or else fail in what was necessary to free himself of her. Susan cuddled down into his arms, a lazy smile curling her lips. So this was the face of the enchantress, the real one, all that time she'd just been burrowing into him, undermining his strength. The most beautiful things were the most deadly. Much like one of the rare flowers that graced the gardens in his castle, the delillyum flower could kill with a touch. It was cultivated carefully, enticing the foolish to touch it, and die slow terrible deaths as the poison ate through their flesh. Telmarine's tended to keep it around to kill off the stupid and weak. That was what she was, delillyum flower, gorgeous, irresistible. But her poison wouldn't kill him. No, not him, he was no fool.

"Caspian?"

Why did she have to talk? Was she going to tell him more stupid tales that were meaningless, those stories that she'd woven around him, the ones that almost fooled him into turning to her? Sighing, stroking her spine, "Yes?"

"Are you happy?" little spirals around his nipple with a trim nail. "I may not get to go home, and I won't ever have the life I thought, but I think I can be content here. But I want to know, are you well? Are you happy? Was... was there anything you ever wanted that you thought you could maybe have, then one day realize suddenly that those options are gone?" Caspian just stared at her head, incredulous - men don't have such... things as that. But he didn't say. Susan glanced up at him, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry," drawing away from him.

His grip was lax due to shock, and he had to lunge up on his knees to catch her about the waist, "Your query merely took me by surprise. Susan, come, lay with me." She wouldn't look at him, her hair hanging down in her face. Caspian needed her to be nearby for his plans, he wanted to know the exact minute she died and was no longer a threat to him, wanted to feel it. So he needed her in his arms, relaxed and asleep. Magic working didn't happen when the witch slept, that would be standard procedure he figured. "Please Susan, stay with me this night," shocking himself, and her too apparently.

"If... if that's what you want," Susan looked at him oddly. Fear was shivering in her eyes.

Maybe he had given himself away. But she came back and lay next to him, on her side, facing away from him. Gently Caspian moved her hair from her neck and shoulder, stroking his fingers down her neck, shoulder, then arm, until he could lace his fingers with hers. Dizzy momentarily, Caspian pressed his face into her hair, breathing ragged. Something was wrong with him, he just didn't know what. The situation was insane. Yes it was, because Susan was not what she seemed. Caspian just had to keep that in mind, to ignore the frailness and how soft she looked, how vulnerable. Weakness was there to be taken and exploited anyway. Hand under the pillow, beneath his head, and Caspian's fingers searched for the knife he'd put there earlier. Cold metal touched him, and Caspian ceased his quest for now, reassured. Time was ticking along happily, and eventually Susan's breathing eased. Past that point, Caspian waited several excruciatingly long candlemarks to be sure of her.

She was so small, so helpless, laying there in his arms, so trusting. Absolutely foolish. Trusting him, him - a Telmarine. Idiocy. Smoothly, Caspian pulled the dagger from it's sheath, the blade laying pressed to his inner forearm as he eased closer to Susan. How sweetly she smelled, faintly of mint and sex and him and her own soft musk. Intoxicating. Enfolding Susan in his arms, careful of the blade, making sure it didn't knick her, despite the small cuts he received, because he kept it so razor sharp - because he had to make it quick, before he could fall before her unnatural beauty once more, and then he waited a bit longer. Just a bit longer, smelling her hair, feeling her soft curves against him. Eyes closed, Caspian moved the tip into place, so that when he rammed the knife into Susan's breast, it'd tear through the diaphragm and into her cold heart.

For a small eternity, Caspian looked over Susan's shoulder at the deadly point ready to do it's bloody work where it was poised over the creamiest alabaster skin. She was his to do with as he pleased. Taking a deep breath, Caspian's arm moved.


	9. Chapter 9

Caspian had been avoiding her again. Susan tried to not be hurt by that. She had no clue what was going on, but since she'd made up her mind about him, Susan would do everything in her power to help him however he'd let her. When he'd begged her to stay (well okay he didn't beg exactly but it was the closest to begging that man would ever do) the other night in his arms, Susan had hoped momentarily that some kind of progress had been made. But she'd woken up alone, his spot still warm from his body-heat. He was like a ghost, moving through the halls, and the Narnians had seen him frequently, but not once had she bumped into him. Not once had she even seen a glimpse of him. It was a struggle to not ask someone to help her find him, but Susan tried to respect his need for privacy. Maybe it had been too intense for him? That may be the problem, so she'd wait him out. But he'd been so avid, staring at her the way he had, like he was only a step away from devouring her whole, consuming her soul.

Susan had been afraid of him, but then he'd taken her hand and the fear had drained away and she knew she'd be safe. That night her dreams had been filled with his laughter, and her dream-Caspian had verged on playful, dragging her out to jump in piles of leaves. Then the grass had turned green and she'd laid with her head on his chest as he told her what he thought the clouds looked like. So upon waking Susan had half expected that Caspian to be spooned around her, cradling and keeping her safe. Instead the jarring reminder that no, that was not the real Caspian, and that the real one was a distant and hard man at the best of times. At the worst of times he was downright dangerous in ways Susan couldn't even understand.

But she worried, overall, all the while shoving her own fears, her own stresses aside, taking care of him the best she could. It was long habit, ingrained from her mother always telling her to take care of her siblings, to be responsible. So she was, and if she had a bad day at school, so what? Because if Peter stubbed his toe and got mad, Susan was there fixing the problem, letting him vent. Even if she was depressed or feeling blue or angry or just had a need to tell someone how she was feeling. And she was continuing that, she carried those lessons over, because they were good lessons. Caspian came first now that she'd decided to be there for him, be whatever he needed.

While knowing eventually he'd tire of her. And that would mean she died. It didn't matter, because that was a useless worry, there more pressing issues. As well as the fact that Susan was not a girl to mope over such things, she'd done it enough while still in that transitional shock. Susan was becoming irrational and frantic she knew it. Some moments she just stared at the pallet she slept in so peacefully so often, and asked herself how in the name of all that was holy could she take care of a man who'd brutalized her so? Cracking, that's what it felt like she was doing. And she had no stability left now that Caspian was hiding from her. Of course she could talk to Rosetta about this, or Morningdew, but they had worries of their own.

Then there was the spies, the information was coming in by the wagonload, and needed so much sorting, yet it had to be hidden from Caspian that she was the one behind it. Smiling with practiced ease, Susan nodded and even spoke for several moments with many of the Narnians she passed, filling the role that she'd fell into. The hair on the back of her neck prickled as she passed Destrier's stall, and yet she resisted the urge to look over her shoulder, to go near the magnificent beast. If Caspian was in there like she suspected, he obviously didn't want her to see him, so she sailed on blithely as though she didn't suspect. Instead of heading back to her room, Susan headed deeper into the How, to where she did her thinking.

Entering the room with its giant cracked Table, Susan looked up at the bas relief of a huge lion. Aslan, or God, she didn't know, it was one and the same it seemed. Clambering onto the Table, Susan sat with her legs tucked under her, feeling as though she were in a chapel. All she needed was a priest or vicar to speak with. There was of course none, so instead Susan prayed as she hadn't in a while, needing strength. It was wordless, thoughtless, just a begging for things to work out, a way to stay strong for the Narnians and Caspian. Their needs were so great, hers were but pitiful little things in comparison. But she did so need some kind of stability.

Susan fell asleep there on the Table, and dreamed stranger than usual dreams. When she awoke she couldn't recall them at all, but she felt somewhat lighter.

XXX

Susan rubbed the soap over her skin, working a thick lather, lemon and peppermint filled the air like fresh squeezed citrus and crushed herbs. At some point she'd gotten good at not thinking, on just existing. Life here was different, and people expected her to be strong. Frowning Susan, ducked down until just from her nose up was out of the water. There was currently a problem she had to work through, and time was of the essence. According to Hopacheep, one of her Mouse spies, Miraz was pulling heavily on all the reserve men of fighting age for a push through the forest, in an attempt to burn it to the ground, forcing all the Narnians to flee or die. What this meant was that Susan had to make a decision. There was only one way to buy time that she could think of, and it was repugnant to her.

She held a man's life in her hands, and while to be sure he was Telmarine (and a very Telmarine-Telmarine as she understood it from the reports) he was still a person. Closing her eyes, Susan knew what Caspian would do if he were her, he wouldn't even be having this internal debate. Instead, she tried to think of what Morningdew would do. Probably the centaur would ponder the problem long enough to ease her conscience, but after that she'd issue the order with no regrets. Glenstorm would probably weigh the choices and again - issue the order with no regrets. What about Rosetta? The dwarf was the most like her in these things, yet... With a sigh Susan sat up and knew she had her answer. To protect everyone, a man must die. On her order.

Caspian interrupted her thoughts, opening and closing the door with a soft finality, his face a stern mask. It had been days since she'd seen him, and a thrill of fear entered her, but Susan shoved it away. In the end it didn't matter, he'd come to her, and Susan would play it by ear depending on his reactions.

"You bathe too much," sauntering closer.

"In Finchley I bathed everyday Caspian," twisting her loose wet hair up and pushing one of the long pins he'd made for her in to hold it up, or at least she assumed it was him, he'd never denied it nor confirmed it when she'd thanked him before.

"This is not Finch-lay," his accent always drawing out the last syllable

Glancing at him, "You're right it isn't, that's why I only bathe every three days." Pushing the water about with her hands, Susan tried not to be intimidated by his sheer size. Sometimes she forgot how big he was, how tall.

Hitching his hip up the edge, leaning on his thigh, "I bathe every other week, many do not do it even that often. It is a sign of instability you realize," waving his hand at the water, "to submerse yourself so often."

"Well I suppose stability has been a bit lacking lately," an edge entering her voice. He wouldn't understand anyway. "Besides, I just prefer to be at least semi-clean. Since I've come here no matter what, I feel dirty," letting that slip was unintentional, and Susan was shocked that she had uttered such a thing before him.

"Mmm," as he dipped a fine scarred finger in the bath, swirling little ripples.

Sighing Susan went back to bathing, after all he wasn't really saying anything. Lifting a leg partially out of the water, Susan massaged soap into her skin, as Caspian watched her intently. Ignoring him for now, he was a problem she couldn't do anything about at the moment, and as vulnerable and exposed as she felt right now, she knew he'd do whatever he pleased. After all that's all he ever did. His proximity did affect her though, it'd been so long, and he did smell so good. When he was quiet like this disturbed her, because it was a very different sort, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it. Hopefully he was gradually coming around. And hopefully he'd just touch her soon, because she was going mad since he'd awoken so much hunger in her, and since she'd accepted that her body craved him, things had been both worse and better.

Switching legs, "Did you need something?"

A tug and Susan's hair fell down around her shoulders, as Caspian took the pin carved like an arrow, rolling it between his fingers, "I will be going for a walk later on, you may come if you wish."

"I don't want to be a pest, and I know when I'm not welcome," needing a little reassurance, even though she didn't expect any.

"If you do not want to come, then you can stay cooped up," velvet covered steel.

"Again with the threats, you do know you don't need them, right?" Susan splashed water over her face carefully, trying to not get him wet.

His hand slid proprietorially over her shoulder, down her back, then to the back of her neck, "Is that so?" almost conversational, yet the steel hadn't left his voice.

Susan could feel the tension in his grip, "No, you don't need to threaten me Caspian. I live here for now, and that means I can do one of two things."

"Explain," Caspian's voice dropped lower, the sound curling through her mind like sticky smoke and it sent a bolt through her when coupled with his scent and his hand on her.

"I can either just live whatever time I have before I die, or I can live in fear waiting for something to happen," glancing at him as he tucked away her hairpin in his jerkin, even as his thumb stroked the side of her throat, over the scars there - would they ever go away?, "Why waste what I have? Why fight it? So I may as well just... live to the best of my abilities. Just like everyone else around us. Rosetta and Genkin are happy despite the war. And they're not the only ones. They have hope of something better, and I hope for them that they get it. I fear I won't be a part of it though, but why be scared? I can't just live in terror every minute that you'll lose your temper or that I'll do something wrong. So, I get up every morning and do something, whatever I can. And take what simple pleasures I can get."

An odd look crossed Caspian's face, hand dropping from her skin, "Interesting outlook."

"Well it gets me through the day," shrugging. It was odd how honest she could be with him, but it'd been so long since she'd properly been around him that Susan couldn't help herself. Part of her needed him, she realized. He was the one who hurt her, so wouldn't he be the one who could heal her? Wouldn't he be honour-bound to try and be there at least?

Caspian leaned over, bracing his hands on either side of the tub, kissing her temple, and Susan tipped her face back, she wanted to taste his mouth, it'd been so long. And it happened so rarely, and Susan sighed in bliss when his lips came in contact with hers. It may be dirty to some people, but sometimes when he kissed her, Susan felt clean again. His tongue slipped into her mouth, swirling over hers, and Susan let out a little whimper, leaning up, thankful for the contact. When he pulled back Susan almost sobbed, because she was finally realizing she wanted him to touch her, to really touch her, and the knowledge wouldn't go. But his mouth trailed down her neck, nipping at her, and the wood of the basin creaked from his grip on it, then up to her ear.

Nuzzling at her, "Bring your bow when you come with me. And a cloak, the evening will be chillier."

Closing her eyes, Susan wanted to touch him, to stroke Caspian's stubbled chin, but refrained, merely nodding.

And then he was gone, leaving her to her now cold bath, in a room that felt that much more frigid without him.

XXX

Susan had dressed carefully, hoping that maybe she could entice Caspian at least a little bit, but not wanting to push him. Well no, she wanted to push him, she wanted him sliding into her, wanted his hands on her breasts or hips. Then again she also wanted to run in the opposite direction from where he was standing, waiting with seeming patience. Something told her to do just that, to run deep into the How, or to Glenstorm or Morningdew. Tucking the cloak more tightly around her, Susan forced her body forward, each step a fight. The instinct to flee was overpowering, but she gritted teeth - running would gain her nothing. It never did.

Caspian turned before she got much closer, his head cocked, then he nodded, offering her his arm. Gulping Susan took it, staying silent. Through his tunic she could feel the tenseness of his muscles. Nothing was said, they just walked out of the How, arm in arm. The air was chilly as Caspian had warned, for there was a sharper bite to it than for the first month and a half of fall.

"Why do you wear my cloak so often?" his voice broke her careful silence.

"Because," fidgeting with her fingers on one of the seams, it was a bit loose and could use mending, "it reminds me of things I should remember."

"Hmph," grunting, "at least you did not leave it at simply 'because'. Though you should learn to explain yourself without constant prompting."

"It reminds me of the fact that we're all human, including you," sure that telling him that wasn't the wisest course of action. "And that that means we're fallible, that sometimes we're going to be weak, and that sometimes someone will try to help, even if they don't know what to do."

He had nothing to say to that.

"A cloak reminds you of all that, how very strange," and Susan saw the muscles jumping in his jaw and neck, could feel his whole arm flexing where she touched it.

Looking away from him, finding herself whisper, "I have so few routines, so few people who I expect to be there everyday. And even though... it's not ideal by any stretch of the notion, I'm used to you. So... when you're not there I find that I'm off kilter."

Caspian's head whipped down to pin her with his eyes, as he slammed to a halt, and she realized that in this light they still looked black - which was not normal at all, "And why in the name of whatever you hold dear would my absence make you feel in such a way? Why even tell me?" Confusion and anger warred over his handsome face.

"People, all people," plucking up her meager defenses, "need routine Caspian. And just because something isn't safe, or is likely to hurt you, if it's there often enough, you get used to it. Like... like..." searching for an analogy he'd understand. With a flash she alighted on one, "Like the beatings Telmarine boys have as children, it's not pleasant, yet they get used to it. Expect it even. So if you were to suddenly take it away, a hole would be there, and the boy wouldn't be sure of which cue to follow."

Snorting, "Ah yes, I am like a daily beating then."

"Sometimes," trying to smile.

Caspian dipped his head to the side in acknowledgment, along with a quirk of his lips - one of his rare smiles. At least his version of one. With a firm tug, Caspian got them walking once more. Some of the tension in him seemed to have eased, and that made Susan let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Besides," Caspian's voice was relatively light (for him at least) after almsot a candlemark had passed, "I have to keep you in your place somehow."

"Hmm?" Susan didn't get it at first, but then it clicked. Keeping a woman in her place involved daily beatings much of the time, and if Caspian were like a daily beating... Then the full absurd humour of it hit, and Susan threw her head back laughing in surprise.

Whether due to the fact that his leg was still injured and his pace was slightly slower, or to just wishing to go slow, the sun was slung low on the horizon when they got to their usual spot that Susan practiced in. The light was not as good as usual, but Susan could still see well enough the trunk of the tree she normally abused, as well as the lower branches that Caspian could reach, that she used for more complex practice. Adjusting the cloak, Susan then unslung her bow, stepping between the stave and the string, and pushing with her palm on the top of the bone and wood composite, bending it slowly. With a small sound of waxed string sliding into place, the bow was strung. A little rotating flip and it was settled in her hands and Susan reached for an arrow, knocking it.

Just as she was lifting the bow, a sound of crackling leaves right behind her, caused Susan to spin and jump, the arrow clutched in her hand and swinging about. With a start she registered that it was just Caspian and she stopped herself from ramming the broad head into his neck. Standing there in an odd tableau, Susan wasn't sure she recognized the man before her. Something was off, way off, just as her gut had been telling her, but again - she couldn't quite place her finger on it.

"You have very fast reflexes," it came out softly.

"Caspian, you know you shouldn't sneak up on people, especially armed people! I could've hurt you," shaking her head, barely even noticing that she kept her small weapon resting against his skin. "It's dangerous!"

His eyes narrowed sharply, "Dangerous for who?"

"Well, seeing as I'm the one with the sharp pointy object," blushing once she realized she still held it to his throat, Susan slowly withdrew it, "out then you know.. maybe you should just be a bit more careful? Please?"

But he caught her hand in both of his, taking her arrow from her fingers, "And now it is I who is armed."

Shrugging as nonchalantly as she could, Susan forced herself to relax, "You're always armed, and I've learned to live with it."

"Hmm," still holding her hand, Caspian used the tip of the arrow to trace the tendons in her neck, his eyes following the imaginary trail left in the path's wake. Caspian stepped away from her, replacing the arrow in her hand, "Continue."

Susan used half of her quiver before she stopped, stretched and went to go collect her arrows. Normally she'd empty the quiver, but again that animal part of her brain warned her against doing so. Plus it advised a bit of space between she and Caspian. She'd feather him if she had to, but that was best done at a bit of distance, though only enough to incapacitate him. Reaching the tree, Susan started to tug at the shaft but it was sticking.

So focused Susan was, she didn't notice that Caspian was there once more until his hand landed lightly on the tree, and she could feel his breath suddenly on the side of her neck. Swallowing, Susan glanced over her shoulder at him: Caspian's eyes were closed, nostrils flaring as he moved even closer, and Susan turned around, forgetting her arrow.

"Hi," of a sudden noticing that her back was pressed into bark, and Caspian had his whole body pushed against her, and Susan wanted to grab his attention.

Eyes dark as coal snapped open, then hooded partially, something that looked like it was supposed to be a smile curled his mouth upwards. But it was no smile that a friend should wear. Or an ally, or whatever Caspian was to her.

The back of a hand stroked her cheek, "You look frightened."

"Should I be?" squeaking. Then Susan took a deep breath, not touching him, as she held his gaze, while she surreptitiously worked at the arrow buried in the trunk, trying to get it free.

Lips rested on her forehead, moving as he spoke, "Of course, you should always be frightened. I am dangerous after all."

"Oh. But, Caspian," tilting her head up to look at him, as Caspian moved his mouth so it lay on her temple instead, "I'm not always scared of you. I can't maintain it. I'm always aware, but I have to be around you so much... that I couldn't function if I was terrified of you nonstop. And... I can't live like that. I just can't. You know that, I already told you that." Susan held in an elated cry when she felt the head of the arrow loosen - just a little bit more, "And I don't think it's possible for anyone to ever forget that you're dangerous."  
"Hmph," grunting, and then his mouth glided silkily down to hers, staying just a hairsbreadth away from her lips, "you had best keep that in mind though."

"Oh believe me I do," whispering fervently.

He moved, cocking his head further to the side, and Susan could almost hear his pulse throbbing she was so hyper aware of him, "Good." Caspian's breath puffed against her lips, like a kiss, "I believe your arrow will snap if you keep such a harsh hold of it."

And then she knew he'd been aware of her careful retrieval of such a piddly thing, mocking it as though it couldn't protect her. Which was true it couldn't. Not when he was this close, not when he was flooding her senses. Then so fast that it took a moment for the absence of the heat of his body against her to register, and Caspian was a normal distance from her, plucking arrows from the bark as though nothing had happened. Leaning back, Susan closed her eyes, trying to calm her frantic heart-rate. She had no clue what was going on with him. It had been a long time since he'd made her scared, but now it was a totally different fear.

Because by now she was rather aware of what that man was fully capable of, she'd seen his body, and that brought home certain facts. The kind of person who would survive that had to be the biggest, most dangerous, bastard that they could possibly be, fast to use violence as a solution, and to totally disregard logic and words. At first she'd thought that she could bring him around, but now, well now she knew that it wouldn't be that easy as sharing with him, and forcing herself to trust him. Frankly she was amazed she'd managed to sway him as many times as she had, and now Susan hat to make a new decision.

How carefully would she have to tred? And how far was she willing to go to live up to her silent vow. Glancing in his direction, moving smoothly, aura newly predatory, wrapping him up, dripping from him, Susan knew. She'd made her bed, now she'd lay in it, while doing her best to not invite disaster. Chewing her lip, Susan gathered the last few shafts, tucking them away, before approaching.

Caspian was twirling a single arrow from finger to finger, the movement nimble and skillful, and how well she knew those hands were capable of wonderful feats, as well as horrible ones. His gaze flicked up to her, casually, as he leaned his shoulder on a bole, and then he was there. Right infront of her once more, as though he were reminding her very carefully again and again that he was not simply some wounded man, but a force of nature to be reckoned with. Five arrows were put into her quiver, the sixth still flickering lightening quick in his hand, as he examined it.

"You made these," it was a statement.

Nodding, "Yes."

"They are different than the ones you make for the soldiers. Why?"

"I don't know, I like them that way," shrugging. "I used some feathers that someone left for me. I don't know who." But she had a suspicion. Tiny gifts were left for her periodically, until all of those things that could be called hers, were of the finest make. Shortly after Grilf had brought Caspian back, her quiver had been taken, a new one, carved of some large bone stood in its place. Then sixty shafts of some ebony black wood, all of perfect even length, smoothed down and oiled till the glistened waited patiently to have heads put upon them. And after that feathers, sharp vermilion, and just right for fletching sat there in a bundle at the table she worked at when mending things. So on, so forth, until a soft black suede bag containing a comb with leaves carved on its spine was found in her trunk. Long hairpins in the shapes of arrows, or snaking vines, with fine flowers at their tops appeared next. Times when she'd thanked Caspian, he hadn't reacted, as though he hadn't heard her at all.

His look told her that he knew she knew, "They suit you." Caspian reached for her, his hand sliding from her waist, to the small of her back, dragging Susan closer to him. Resisting the urge once more to flee, Susan allowed it, not fighting. Yet still the sixth shaft twirled, faster and faster minutely, and then Caspian's hand shot out, right past her shoulder and neck, and a click as the weapon was thrust into her quiver. "So does these," gently touching the flower shaped hair pins she'd used.

Placing her palm on his chest, she wasn't sure what else to do, "They're pretty, but I don't know what kind of flower they are. When I asked Rosetta she didn't know either."

A soft snort, "She would not know of such things, few do."

"You know what kind it's supposed to be?" curious, shoving the frightened creature chittering in her mind back by stint of will alone.

She'd made her decision long before she even knew it.

"Delillyum."

It was a beautiful name, and she said so.

"Yes, and they are very beautiful flowers indeed, their fragrance fills the gardens, intoxicating and light. Sweet, and delicious, to a point where you wonder how good they would taste if you were to put one on your tongue," the hand in the small of her back stayed firm, his thumb starting to stroke back and forth.

"Do people actually eat them?" wrinkling her brow. People eating flowers, it made her think of Odysseus and the Lotus Eaters.

"Oh yes, some do," nodding. That smile was back on his face, the one that made her want to hide her head under the covers like a small child, "It is always rather interesting when they do so."

Brow furrowing, "Is it like a drug?"

"You could say that," his eyes were locked on her neck, a fingertip tracing his mark on her skin.

"Well fine, explain or don't explain," sighing in growing irritation. He kept sidestepping what she was asking. Carrying on a conversation was too much work. Leaning her head forward, Susan pressed her cheek to his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. So strange she mused, that the person who was the source of all her problems was the person she felt could help, if only she helped him first.

"It burns," smooth like melted chocolate, scorching hot like whiskey going down too fast, "slowly. Very slowly." A deep inhale, moving his cheek over crown down to her cheek, whispering into her ear, "Like an acid, all the while the scent of the flower intensifies as it consumes the flesh. In just a few hours the jaw has been blackened by a fire that can never be put out, it is flameless. Then it spreads, but if eaten it kills far faster than any other method. There was a woman who spurned a Lord," the chuckle was black, not even dark, merely black, like he found it to be a great jest whatever he was about to say, though Susan's stomach roiled in sick disgust, "she was from Calormen and had no idea what the gift was that he had sent to her was truly. He said it was to make amends. And believe me it did, it solved the dispute after five days. Just a dab on her wrists and well, she was left on display in a cage. The courtyard of his castle smelled glorious instead of like rotting and burning meat."

"That's... horrible," choking, scrunching her face up, pressing it further into his chest.

"Hah, that is the nature of Telmarine's m'lady," a kiss laid behind her ear. "But the flower is one of two of the most lovely things I have ever seen." Caspian was rock still, yet it felt like he was in constant motion, "In the gardens of my home, there is a large section devoted to them. A masterpiece of Telmarine art, left open with pathways wending between the tall stalks. Many have died for the foolishness of playing amongst them, forgetting that the plant is as deadly as it is lovely. Some of my peers when I was a child died because of such things."

Shuddering, "Why didn't anyone stop them from playing around something like that? Or better yet destroy the ghastly things?"

"Beauty is not to be wasted, and the lesson it teaches is a good one. Look but do not touch. And for those useless sacks of burnt flesh that are stupid enough to forget that, then they serve to reinforce that knowledge in their betters," dragging his mouth down her neck, Caspian nipped at her covered shoulder. "It culls the weak, which is good, saves time, provides entertainment, and sweetens the air. What is not to appreciate about it?"

Susan tangled her fingers in his tunic, trying to push away the knowledge that he was one of those who probably had laughed, "And you say it suits me?" Shaking her head back and forth Susan, shivered, huddling into him, "It can't, I wouldn't do anything like that!"

"Do you think that delillyum intends for its touch to kill?" curious. "Do you think it intends to torture all that dares to reach for it? No, you are exactly like delillyum. Look, but do not touch," and then Caspian jerked away from her, his face a mask. "M'lady, it is time to retire," and he spun on his heel, cloak swirling, not offering her his arm, and he stayed several strides ahead of her back to the How.

XXX

Susan awoke by inches, and for some reason the room was darker than usual. She noticed that right off the bat. The ever present torches were out, that's what it was. That and what little light there was, was blocked out by a figure leaning over her. A feather light caress of a finger tip tracing her brow, nose, cheeks and lips was what had been easing her up to the land of the aware.

Without thought, Susan smiled sleepily up at Caspian, "Is it morning already?"

He shook his head, stilling further words with his lips. Sighing, Susan kissed him back, wiggling closer to him. Raising a hand to cup his cheek, Caspian's fingers curled around her wrist. Hard. Almost painfully so. Wincing, Susan started to pull away, ask what was wrong - he didn't let her, just followed, continuing to slide his mouth over hers, tongue thrusting in and out of her mouth, swirling and for a moment Susan forgot the discomfort of how tight his grip was. Rustling, and Susan felt something going beneath her covers, then her nightgown's hem was being dragged up.

[REDACTED TO COMPLY WITH FFN POLICY. The full chapter resides on AO3.]

As he pulled away, Susan saw he had an odd look on his face.

"Caspian, is something wrong?"

Silent, he shook his head, and then his hand was petting her crotch, fingers brushing lightly over her. With a sigh, Susan's head dropped back to the pillow, entreating him to do more with a whine. A digit moved through her cleft, and it was like electric shocks. Groaning when Caspian cut to the chase, rapid featherlight touches to her center of nerves, causing her to twist on the pallet, and before she knew it, Susan was being dragged down by long warm waves lapping at her body. Trying to wiggle closer to him, Susan was stopped by his hand laying between her breasts, and yet another one of those soundless shakes of his head.

Caspian just kept her in one place, keeping a tight grip on her wrist, but other than that, he seemed oddly attentive, like he was looking at her for the first time. His tall muscularly lean form stayed arched over her, one of his hands occupied with touching her face periodically, or caressing her hand that lay on his thigh still. It almost felt like a staring contest, but Susan wasn't sure how long she was supposed to hold his gaze, or if it was okay that her eyes kept wandering. Not even a moment ago, he'd kissed her once more, drawing her attention back to him when she'd started to look around.

Finally, "Sleep."

"Right now?"

A nod.

"I can't just -" his lips were warm, and silky, while the stubble just above his top lip was coarse and tickled.

Whispering, Caspian rested his forehead against hers, "Sleep my flower."

Susan nodded minutely, letting all thoughts slip away in a tiny trickle. It took a little while, but she did under Caspian's intent gaze.


	10. Chapter 10

Caspian eased back, his hand still wrapped tightly about Susan's hand. Releasing it, Caspian stared at his palm. Sometimes he thought his limbs no longer belonged to him. Regaining his feet, he sheathed the sword he'd taken out earlier, ready for quick use. He had knelt next to Susan to gain one last taste of her lips, and then he was sidetracked by touching her face with his eyes. Which had been quickly replaced with his lips, that hadn't woken her up, but the tickling of his finger near her nose had probably done it as he switched from his caresses with his lips to that of his fingers. Turning his back, Caspian wondered at himself and how far he had fallen.

Well this was not going to happen again, how many attempts had he made? And just as many times the simplest things thwarted him. He wondered if she knew how close she'd been to death the last few days, that she had smiled at it, and held its hand. Kissed it. Spoken with it. Yet she'd stood her ground, continually putting her life directly in his hands, telling him not in so many words, that it was his to do with as he wished. But also saying in plain speech that echoed still in his mind, she knew, just as the sun rose each morning, that he would be her death. And still, and still in his hands she had gratefully put her life, as though he were the only one capable of keeping it safe. A brief thought that maybe she was not delillyum flitted through his mind, but that the comparison was more apt for himself than Susan. The thought vaguely amused him.

Watching her had made for an odd sensation in his stomach and chest, the knowledge that she kept giving him her acceptance while completely aware of what he was, and what he would do, haunting him. It had given rise to his actions this night, soothing her back into rest, relishing the fact that she was his possession. His rare and beautiful flower, that he kept for himself, and could destroy at any time. So he'd spared her tonight.

Sleep had been eluding him until he would collapse in exhaustion over the last nine days. The entire time spent awake, he'd plot how to kill Susan, and with a start he'd stopped thinking of her as an entrantress once more. Cocking his head, Caspian glanced over his shoulder at her, frowning. He'd actually not gotten any sleep in what was now running on three days. Oddly it seemed his mind would clear after a certain point, allowing him to see past the constant pain in his head, that thundered and battered at him and had done so since a few days before his decision to kill her had taken place. Of course forgetting that the headaches had been going on for more than a year. And with his incredibly alert senses he realized how absurd his fear had been. Susan was just a woman, a girl really, who had rapidly become a woman. Nigh on five months she had been here, by his side and he'd seen no witchery beyond that of her smile.

So, there was no real reason to kill her out of hand. She was no actual threat, no more than any woman. Probably less even, because she may still be cheeky and demanding, but she had settled into a position that was well enough by him. Deciding against leaving, Caspian unslung his swordbelt, and removed his jerkin, then lay down over the covers, watching Susan sleep. She rested peacefully and unconsciously moved nearer him, a tiny smile curving her full lips. He had become her everything he knew. The anchor that gave her reason - which was as it should be. Yes, definitely as it should be.

"Caspian! Oh I didn't see you there!" Susan smiled up at him, always smiled, even when he could see the wariness.

It reminded him that he was the one in control. And he liked that. Things were well if she remembered that.

Steadying her with a hand on her elbow, "I saw that there were no pointy objects nearby so I felt it appropriate."

She blinked then laughed a bit, "You're in a good mood today." Swaying nearer to him before realizing it, Susan took a step back then, blushing under his heavy gaze, "Can I do anything for you?"

"What are you doing right now?" offering her his arm, which she took reflexively. Inside Caspian crowed victory - little signs that Susan knew she belonged to him and only to him, and lived only to serve him and his various needs, cropped up like mushrooms on shit after a rain.

Adjusting her skirts, then moving closer to him as she walked, "I was going to go speak with Morningdew. But it can wait."

Raising a brow, "You spend much time with her."

"She's wonderful, she says she can teach me to shoot from a moving target," excited.

"From horseback is difficult," and he frowned, "But you are not allowed to practice outside of my presence."

Susan shifted about, "Then allow me to point out the fact that not that long ago you told me to go practice with Morningdew."

"I said no such-" then pausing, and Caspian remembered that he had in fact said exactly that. But for entirely different reasons, "That was earlier."

"Oh," Susan looked disappointed, then shrugged it off, "well then I can just throw pebbles."

"Pebbles are hardly difficult to throw," guiding her towards Destrier's box. Clucking at his longtime friend, probably the only one he'd ever had, Caspian then slipped free of Susan, and climbed into the stall, the horse wuffling at him happily. The stallion was rarely startled, particularly when Caspian's scent was in the air, and after a little patting and scratching, Caspian started saddling the steed.

"Yes well, it would teach me how to do it in principle, plus you can't protest it, after all, 'pebbles are hardly difficult to throw'," as she leaned over the gate.

Lifting the saddle onto the equine back, "I can protest anything I please."

Susan made an unladylike noise, "Then I suppose that's exactly what you'll do. Fine, you killjoy."

"I did not say that you could not do it, now did I?" fastening the cinch and checking Destrier over one last time, then got the last parts of the tack settled, "Now, do you remember how to get into the saddle?"

"Um, I've only been on a hose once mister," backing away from the gate as he opened it, Destrier following docile as a dog, "and if I remember correctly it wasn't for a pleasure stroll. In fact - the result was downright atrocious."

"That is not how I recall it, I recall you enjoyed yourself thoroughly," Caspian held the reins loose in one hand, while his other arm wrapped around Susan, dragging her into his chest so he could feel her pressed up against him.

Ducking her head, looking off to the side, "That wasn't what I was talking about. I was talking about almost falling off that thing. Repeatedly."

Releasing her, Caspian motioned for her to walk beside him, "Then see that you do not this time."

"Shit," Susan put her face in a palm then squared her shoulders as though she were going to the gallows.

The image was so humorous he couldn't help a laugh.

He didn't see Susan's delighted smile, nor everyone else's startled glances in his direction.

XXX

Caspian found once more that the headaches had all but stopped since he'd decided to take pleasure in the fact that he could be rid of Susan at any point he wished. But she was definitely an enjoyable thing, and such things were not to be wasted. Much like the delillyum flower's scent and loveliness, it should be reveled in, while keeping the knowledge that once it became too much of an annoyance it could be destroyed. And of course one took care of wonderful possessions, and Caspian had found Susan required very little. His little flower just wished for a bit of daily attention that was as good for him as for her, and some freedoms. That was simple enough.

Now he was looking for her again, her bow and quiver over his own back and he wondered if he was still any good with the weapon. Frankly he preferred steel in his hands, or maybe a crossbow, but he did admire the skill necessary to wield the tricky thing. Already he had checked their room, then the washing rooms, then the smithy where she would talk with the various dwarves, or the kitchens (he'd found out the hard way that she didn't know a thing about cooking with the sorts of equipment here, and only made a mess - the food hadn't been very good that day, giving him terrible indigestion despite his cast iron stomach), or anywhere else he could think to look.

Rapidly he became irritated, she had places she was supposed to be, so that he could find her with ease. Muscle jumping in his jaw, Caspian got a hold of his temper. First to find her, and discover if there was a good reason for the difficulty in finding her (and there were no good reasons that came to mind), and then what sort of punishment she deserved. Scanning one of the large workrooms, hot, dusty, and drafty in one, looking for someone useful.

Approaching one of the Tigers Susan had befriended (really there was no such thing as a Narnian that wasn't her friend though), "Sir Tiger, good day to you."

Great head turned to look at him, then a purr as he bowed, "And a good day to you, Your Highness. Is there aught this humble servant can do for you?"

"Yes," nodding, finally recalling the Tiger's name, "Sir Jiroon, perhaps you have spied Susan this day?"

"No Your Highness, I haven't, but," shifting to sit on his hind-legs, tail tucking around his forepaws, "I could find her if you wish."

Not one to accept help generally, but the Tiger's nose would come in handy, "That would be beneficial."

"Of course Your Highness," and Caspian couldn't be sure, but thought Jiroon sounded somewhat amused.

Susan had a bad feeling. Normally she didn't visit the Stone Table during the day, only in the middle of night generally. But today she had felt the urge to gaze upon the carving of Aslan, because the sight of Him had become something as soothing as the way she felt when in church (though she of course still questioned God's existence, it didn't stop her from finding solace in the rituals). Having heard voices, Susan slowed to a halt, listening. The first person was Nikabrik, and Susan smiled - the bitter and cynical dwarf had grown on her with his caustic humour. Sometimes they'd just take the piss out of each other for a few hours, as they both worked on polishing armour. Figuring that it'd be good to have an insult match to see who could come up with the most disgusting or stupid remarks, Susan started forward again.

The sound of another voice stopped her once more. It was... unidentifiable. Warped and twisted. Like nails on the chalkboard of the soul almost. Only one thing was heard clearly, Caspian's name, and while Susan had been about to turn and leave Nikabrik, not wanting to interrupt him with whatever character he was with... Frowning, Susan crept forward, wanting to get close enough to understand what was being said. Because she wasn't familiar with the person speaking, she may be wrong in her interpretation of how Caspian's name was uttered. She had to be sure that it really was a harmless conversation, but again - the second voice, and now a third - rumbling like low and evil thunder, worried Susan inordinately.

"He'll come around, but the time's not right," that was Nikabrik.

"You must speed it up, our Mistress must be returned soon, or the Telmarines will overrun us," scary voice number one.

"As I said," growling, "I'm working on it."

Scraping, and voice two, "The White Witch needs him, and he needs Her, why can't you show him this faster dwarf?"

"There's complications, he's caught up in his own thing right now, he has things he needs -"

"It's the wench isn't it?" voice one once more, and Susan felt a thrill of terror.

"She's no wench, she's," Nikabrik paused, and it was obvious he was thinking, "she's good for him."

"The Mistress will not care for her, she reeks of Aslan, and it appears she's even tainted you Nikabrik," the snarly one hissed.

Having heard enough, Susan started to withdraw, and then like always happens when trying to sneak away while scared - she tripped.

"Ooof!"

"Who's there?" Nikabrik came into view just as Susan had got her feet beneath her.  
Managing to smile like nothing was wrong, "Hi Shortstack! So, I could use you for something - I've got this great need a footstool."

Nikabrik almost smiled, but then stopped, "Your Highness I don't think that will be happening."

"Oh spoilsport," acting normal, all the while backing down the hallway. "Don't tell me you've already got a date? Must be blind, deaf and dumb to want to spend any time with you." Winking at him, "Either that or you're paying her really well."

"Don't make this harder Your Highness," Nikabrik came close to looking sad.

Two cloaked figures appeared, flanking him, and moved towards her.

Reaching up as though to adjust her hair, Susan fingered a long hairpin, and it made sense now as to why the points were so sharp - everything lovely in Telmarine culture was useful as a weapon too. Cocking her head, while scratching casually, "Oh Nikabrik you freak, what are you going to do with two women? Frankly right now I'm just trying to get my head around you with - "

"Silence whore!" a gnarled hand flung back the hood of a cloak.

Gasping Susan, recoiled, then recovered her aplomb, "Wow Nikabrik - I didn't think a girl could do worse than you. But really, you could do far better than her!" Clearing her throat, "Well why don't I just leave you to your freakish date. Though really I think you serving as a doorstop for me would be more useful."

The second figure pounced, but Susan had already removed one of her pins, and kept it palmed, pressed along the inside of her wrist. Air knocked from her, Susan was unable to yell for help. Seeing stars, and then she was being lifted, carried to be put on the Stone Table.

"You're not going to kill her on that are you?" Nikabrik sounded irritated.

A hand was around her throat, cutting off her air, but not badly - Caspian had been rougher many times than this. It was nothing to stay calm for that at least. But she had to think, had to come up with a way out of this with just the use of a single hairpin.

"She heard us, saw us, she must die," the positively hideous female-ish thing came closer to her.

"Leave her to me then," Nikabrik interrupted, pulling his short dwarven sword from it's shoulder sheath.

"You truly are a nasty one," it looked like a werewolf, the thing over her, long muzzle poking from beneath its hood.

Nikabrik shrugged, "I must clear the taint from me, prove to the Lady that I am loyal to Her."

"True, true," the hag rasped.

The hand lifted from her neck, and the wolf-thing must think her too terrified to do anything. Let them continue thinking that.

"Nikabrik, please, why?" it wasn't too hard to sound scared. Because she was, but there was no way some scruffy-assed animal was going to take her out. That honour was reserved for someone who may learn from it. Not that she thought she meant that much to Caspian, but still.

Shaking his shaggy head, "I'm sorry Your Highness, you should have been more careful where you went. Though this would have happened anyway."

"But I thought you were my friend," whispering.

He was standing over her now, atop the Table, the sword pointing down at her neck, "It will be fast. I promise."

XXX

Caspian nodded his thanks to Jiroon, "She's in there? Thank you, then I shall take care of it."

"Your Highness, I smell something off," Jiroon didn't leave like Caspian requested.

"Off?" eyes narrowing. "What kind of 'off'?"

Jiroon sniffed the air delicately then growled, "Very off," before slinking forward, belly low to the ground.

Without thought Caspian unslung Susan's bow, movements swift and easy though he was out of practice. Part of him distantly thought it odd that he pulled the bow out instead of his sword, but it felt right so he didn't let the questioning voice inside his head bother him. Following close behind Jiroon, they both froze in shock.

Caspian had never known that Narnians could produce such creatures, thinking that the history books had exaggerated. They hadn't. And Nikabrik was there, poised to take Susan's life. He didn't like that, she was his. And only his - her life was in his hands, not someone else's!

"Aren't you his friend at least?" her voice was strained.

"You should learn to be quiet," the hag grabbed Susan's hand, slicing the palm, causing a scream to well up, that was cut silent by the were's hand on her throat. "And Nikabrik, either do it, or we will. It would be more fun our way."

The sight of the blood was the catalyst. From the corner of his eye, Caspian saw Jiroon spring, pouncing and rolling the hag about, snarling, biting and hissing. But it was Nikabrik who held his attention, for the blade was swinging down, and there was an arrow in Caspian's hand and then it was in Nikabrik's shoulder, toppling the dwarf. Caspian's blood curdling roar filled the room, as he lept further in, dropping the bow to meet the were-wolf, sword flying into his hand. Blade twirling, Caspian sliced at his opponent, then danced aside nimbly, though not quite as fast as he should have, receiving a swipe to his chest that made him grunt once. Thankful for a moment that he always wore at least his studded jerkin, Caspian moved into the next blow, stepping into the were's reach, slamming his shoulder into the hairy chest. It was impossibly strong, but Caspian was impossibly pissed, and it showed. No one touched her but him, no one dared lay hands on that delicate neck but him - she was his!

Grabbing the filthy thing by a wrist, Caspian leaned away, using his body-weight to spin it back a few steps, and then he was there once more, twisting his arm as he lunged, skewering the thing that had dared to hurt his flower. Ripping the sword from its gushing chest, Caspian looked around madly for something else to kill. The hag was on her knees, about to shove her long dagger into Jiroon, but Susan was sneaking up behind her, hairpin held tightly in her hand. Susan wrapped her forearm around the hag's neck, tilting her head back, and slammed the point into her eye, but that wouldn't kill something like that at all. Caspian raced over, then there was a howl, and the werewolf, bleeding a river, bounded past him aiming for Susan.

Yanking his belt knife from its sheath, flipping it up, catching it, and then flinging his arm out, putting a spin on the hilt, there was a pained yelp. The werewolf collapsed in midair, Caspian rushed over, poised to kill it.

"No one takes her from me. Ever," snarling before he beheaded the beast.

Behind him there was a screech, and a triumphant roar from Jiroon.

Narnians were racing into the room, many armed, including Rosetta, Caspian distantly noticed, a short spear in her hands. Waving them off, Caspian went over to Nikabrik, who's breathing was laboured. The dwarf's head was in Susan's lap, and she was crying.

"Shorstack, why?" sniffling.

"The Telmarines need to be thrown from the land," blood flecking his lips.

"Even Caspian?"

Shake of a head, "He's a good one. So are you."

Smiling, "I'm not Telmarine, runt."

"Leave now Susan," Caspian's voice was harsh.

"You have to help him," pleading, Susan looked up at him.

"He would have killed you, and you ask this? Foolish woman, leave, now," gesturing sharply.

Susan curled over the black dwarf, shielding him with her body, "No. We have to help him!"  
Glancing over his shoulder, Caspian saw Jumbletot, "Take her away, lock her in her room."  
"Caspian, please! Nikabrik, he's your friend. He's my friend!"

"Come on lass," Jumbletot took Susan's arm, "Let's see to that hand."

"Please Jumbletot," shaking the light touch off, turning to dab at Nikabrik's mouth, where a trickle of blood was leaking.

Nikabrik shook his head, "You'd forgive me? Why?"

Caspian watched, fascinated through the red haze that fogged his vision, while Susan pressed a kiss to the wrinkly brow, "Because everyone deserves a little kindness. And everyone deserves a second chance."

"Enough," snapping at Susan, "Go to your room. Now."

Susan's back stiffened, and he knew she knew the tone of voice he used boded ill if she didn't obey.

"Go on Your Highness," Nikabrik coughed a bit.

Shivering, Susan hugged his head, it was all so incomprehensible. Forgiveness? Second chances? That was weakness incarnate. The dwarf would be punished by Caspian's own hand for trying to take something from him. Susan belonged to him, and he'd made an oath to let no one take her from him, and any attempt on another's part to do so would be met with swift violence. And because Susan was so soft, so weak, it meant that Caspian had to be doubly careful in protecting her from being stolen by someone else.

"Nikabrik, I forgave you already, okay? As soon as it happened, I forgave you," the whisper was so quiet that Caspian wasn't sure he'd heard it.

"Goodbye Susan," the dwarf's breath was steady, yet laboured.

As she left, Susan passed a glance towards Caspian, and he'd never seen such a look, one that was filled with anguish for another's pain. Well no that wasn't true, he'd seen it before. Directed at him.

"Everyone leave, now," and he waited until the Narnians had withdrawn, just watching Nikabrik. Up until now, he'd almost thought of the dwarf as being a friend. Squatting down next to the dwarf, head tilted to the side, staring at him coldly, "You tried to take something from me."

Nikabrik's blue eyes were filled with pain, yet stayed sharp, "You don't take very good care of what's yours then. She walked right into the danger, and I did the only thing I could. Would have been better me, than them."

Grunting, Caspian reached for the shaft that stuck out of Nikabrik, tugging it lightly, "Did I say you could speak?"

"Arrrgh!" short back arching, small thrashes.

"My word is my bond, and I made an oath," slipping his fingers in the back of his boot, taking out the knife tucked away there. Cutting away the bloody tunic Caspian, examined the wound. Holding the blue eyes with his own dark ones, Caspian made a shallow cut over the rapidly bruising flesh around the shaft, "No one will take her from me. Ever. Nothing at all, because I will destroy it. She belongs to me, with me, and I will tolerate nothing happening to her."

Nikabrik was struggling to stop from screaming, and between gritted teeth, "Even from yourself?"

Pausing, knife held delicately in his hand, ribbons already flayed from the dwarf's chest draped like macabre streamers over the short torso, "I said anyone did I not?"

"Then you should start acting like it," panting, fists clenching.

Narrowing his eyes, "And what does that mean?"

Brief agony ridden laugh cut short by Caspian making a small incision, and tugging the skin as the blade slipped between muscle and skin, "They didn't notice - I did!"

"Notice what?" his voice was low, scraping through the air.

"You've been flirting with it for too long, I could see it. I know, aah!" Caspian jerked the strip, tearing it from Nikabrik by hand instead of using the knife.

Leaning in close, "You saw what?"

"I know you boy," growling, "if what you say is true, then you've been about to break your word for a long time. The White Witch coming would have been a boon for you after you killed Susan."

Caspian reeled back, shock shaking him, "Watch your tongue. You know not of what you speak."

Nikabrik was shuddering, "You were going to kill her, eh? Anyone who looked could see it, but they all think you're more Narnian than that. You aren't," shaking his head, "you're Telmarine boy. The Narnian blood has been lost to your line for too long. Only the White Witch could have saved us, saved you too."

"Silence!" grabbing the arrow and twisting it back and forth in Nikabrik's wound. "You will die for your crimes dwarf, for daring to lay hands upon what is mine, for looking at her and attempting to remove her from my care. And yes, yes I will not let anyone take her from me - she is mine!" hissing in Nikabrik's face.

"Then you had better start acting like it boy, or loose your precious honour," the words were spit in Caspian's face.

Snarling, he lost his temper and Caspian didn't really remember much of the time spent in there, except when he came out of it, Nikabrik was a pile of tendons, bone, skin and muscle. A pile that was strewn about like a bizarre jigsaw. And he was covered in blood, hair sticking up in odd angles from him running his hands through it. Leaning back Caspian cracked his spine, then levered himself up, swaying now that the rush of adrenaline had left him.

Glancing about he realized he was alone in the room, which was as it should be. Then there was a clop of hooves, and Caspian noticed Glenstorm get up from where he'd been kneeling, his face serious and serene as usual. Centurion wisdom gazed out at him from those deep eyes. Holding his second's gaze, Caspian waited, seeing what would be said. He must have seen it all, probably even heard it. But Caspian was ultimately Telmarine, and as such would follow his desires whenever he chose. Except for his honour would stop him at times. It was the only thing that separated him from the animals that the Lords were. With a start Caspian realized that that was what Nikabrik had been talking about.

His blood must be thin, because the only thing that remained to him of his Narnian heritage was his honour. Yet still they followed him. Caspian made a second soundless vow to himself, he would keep in mind his honour and watch for the pitfalls that his training and core culture threatened to drag him in. For his father had always told him, drilled into his mind and heart that his honour was all that kept him from being a lowly churl, a worthless sack like the Council. Because if he was like the Council, like most Telmarines - then he would be unable to do his job, which was basically to rule and protect all he possessed from others.

And no one would take what was his.

Wiping his bloody knife on his pants-leg uselessly, Caspian nodded to Glenstorm, "Is there anything that needs my attention?"

Glenstorm was quiet, measuring him, "Yes, there is."

"Well?"

"The Lady Susan, she will require you over the next few days," it was soft, yet Caspian felt he was being ordered to care for his mistress.

Back stiffening, "And why would she require me? She is little more than a prisoner."

As always he denied her status aloud.

Still and calm, placid and implacable, "Is she? My mistake then. Then no, there is nothing you must see to at all. We will take care of her ourselves if you aren't capable of it. Do not go to her room for awhile, because you will only make matters worse then. There will be a patrol going out tomorrow, I suppose the men could use your presence, for it will be more welcome there than here."

Taken aback at the chilly words, and their implications, "Who leads, you or I?"

"You do, Your Highness. But there are times you are as useless as teats on a man, and I say this as your friend," approaching slowly, "And you are blind much of the time, and that can be forgiven for the most part. Except when it affects your leadership skills. That 'prisoner' has done much for us, and the Narnians love her. You were our hope, but she has renewed our faith, something you could never do. The troops fight because they believe that Aslan has graced us once more, and that He will come again. And you call her a prisoner. If that is how you view her, then that is your business. There is only so much coddling of you that can be done, and I have already said far more than I should have. I take my leave, I have vastly more important matters to see to now."

It felt as though he'd been sucker punched, Caspian hadn't thought Glenstorm's disapproval would actually hurt. No one's had before. On one hand Caspian was enraged that the centaur had the audacity to question his judgement, on the other he had been fighting the awareness of just how important to the Narnians Susan had become. Stumbling over to the Table, Caspian leaned on it, and looked up at Aslan's image. He had never been one for prayer or asking the question 'why', but things had been lurching through him unnoticed for some time now. Caspian had been right, Susan was more than she appeared at first blush, just not how he'd thought.

In only a few months she'd wormed her way into the structure here, bolstering and supporting everyone in innumerable tiny ways. Including him. Him, who she couldn't stand, yet there were so many instances that she'd backed him, bowed to his will. Why was that? Was it just inherent in her nature? Or was it something she had simply decided was the most expedient thing to do, not for his benefit, or even hers - but for the Narnians? And why was it that she loved them so much, why was it she worked so hard for them? No, he didn't believe Aslan still lived, or that He would return, or that He even cared for this land, but it was undeniable that Susan was an utter oddity for this realm. Her softness would be devoured by a Telmarine, crushed and put on display - and he'd even tried to do it himself, and had been unable to. Was that thing he viewed, had been taught was weakness, exactly what she had said - a strength? Is that what being Narnian was - this embracing of weakness?

Shaking these thoughts off, they didn't belong in a Telmarine mind, Caspian took a deep breath, not even sparing a look at the thing that had once been something of a friend, and walked away. As he wondered which was better - being Telmarine or Narnian - and if who he was was good enough for either.

XXX

Caspian approached he and Susan's room, no her room, that's what it was once more - he was just a rare visitor - he saw that there were guards posted. (After he'd cleaned up very good, no need to add further to Susan's probably distress). A large minotaur and Leopard were seated comfortably until they spied him. Both looked from one to the other then stood, blocking the way to the door.

"We're under orders to not let you pass Your Highness," it came out uncertain, but it was apparent that they were determined to do as they had been told.

"Stand down anyway," irritated that they would attempt to barr him.

"We can't Your Highness," the minotaur shook his head.

"On whose orders do you disobey me?" hand dropping to his hilt.

The Leopard's tail swished back and forth showing his distress, "The Princess'."

"Princess? There is no princess here, just a prisoner," growling.

Another look from one to the other, "Be that as it may Your Highness, but that is her status according to tradition."

Glowering at the minotaur trying to remember his name, "Lurrulg, there is no such tradition as that, now stand aside and this disobedience will be overlooked this once."

"Your Highness she is your wife in all but name, and that makes her royalty just as much as you," the Leopard was obviously becoming agitated, for the Talking Beasts mated for life, so he could see his point, but it wasn't valid in this case.

"She is a mere prisoner, now stand aside or I shall have you hung for insubordination!" roaring.

The door was yanked open and Rosetta poked her head out, then caught sight of him and frowned, "What are you doing here?"

"Rosetta, tell Susan that I demand that this foolishness cease," snarling at her.

"I'm sorry Your Highness, but I can't do that," but she didn't seem all that sorry. "Pior go get Glenstorm or Morningdew, they'll solve this. Lurrulg, make sure he doesn't try and enter, he's not welcome here," then the door slammed shut.

Lurrulg feigned sympathy, but stood before the door, arms crossed, "I have my orders Your Highness. It's not my place to question your relationship with Her Highness, but the law is the law, and until you are crowned King, you can't change that."

Twitching muscles, Caspian struggled to stay calm, though he was far from it, and it took a monumental effort to get a reign on his temper, he was in no mood for this shit, "And what law is it that says she is my wife when she is as far from that as could be possible?"

Lurrulg looked surprised, then shrugged, "You should know the Narnian laws, but you were raised Telmarine so I suppose you didn't know. You have lived as man and wife," an obvious euphemism for the fact that he'd been bedding her, "for more than three months. Therefore you're married."

Rubbing his forehead, "Lurrulg she is not my wife, nor will she ever be my wife. At most she is a whore that I frequent."

Suddenly Caspian found himself picked up by his shirtfront, held up to the huge minotaur's face, "You'll not speak that way of her! I was against you as our leader in the first place, and I had been right - you really are little more than a Telmarine whoreson! Disrespecting the law is bad enough, but to call such a Lady as her in that manner - I would call you out for that if it were my place! We minotaurs are loyal to her, and we may have given you our word and our bond, but you will not speak like that of her, or you will loose every one of us. She has been kind to us and looked to our needs, while you have sniveled over your throne."

"Unhand me, now," wrapping his fingers around a thick wrist, looking for that bundle of nerves that would make the beast howl.

Just like that he was dropped like a stone, "Or what? You'll have me hung? Good, I wouldn't want to follow such as you seeing as what an animal you are. It taints my honour. Disgusting."

Creaking from the door and Susan stood framed in the doorway, "Lurrulg leave him be, he's just had a bad day. Caspian, please go away."

She looked tired, worn out, as though it'd been her who had been tortured rather than Nikabrik. And she looked far older than her seventeen years, eyes bloodshot, hair in tattered snarls. Bruises around her neck from the werewolf's paw made a strange necklace. Caspian wanted to smooth them away, the urge shooting through him like a bolt, no one was supposed to mark her but him. Brushing off imagined dirt, Caspian tried to push past the minotaur.

Giving the hand that was pressed to the center of his chest, "If you do not remove your paw from me, I will remove it from your arm."

"Lurrulg, let him past, I'll deal with him myself," Susan stepped away from the door, motioning for Caspian to enter.

There was a rumble from the soldier, and Caspian could feel the dagger sharp glare between his shoulders as he went into Susan's room. Behind him, the door closed, while Susan went to go sit in 'her' chair. Rosetta was carding wool, ignoring him.

Caspian didn't want an audience for this, "Rosetta you may go." The dwarf didn't even spare him a glance, continuing as though nothing were going on. Putting a hint of menace into it, "Rosetta, I order you to leave."

"Rosetta, it's okay, I'll be fine," Susan's voice was soft."

"I don't think so dear, you need some moral support, and he's no good at anything like that."

"Rosetta, trust me it's okay, he and I need to talk I suppose. Or," humourless laugh, "he needs to yell more like. Nothing I haven't seen before."

He'd never felt so thoroughly ignored, it was like he were some bug waiting to be squashed.  
Rosetta sighed and got up, leaving her carding behind her, and as she moved by Caspian, "If you hurt her I'm going to twist your ear so bad it'll pop right off."

Alone now, Caspian glanced around. The room was in shambles, like Susan had had a screaming fit and had torn things to shreds. Mostly bedding, but he spied a few pieces of wood. Bending over to pick a piece up, he frowned recognizing it as some of his carvings of her. It was snapped in half, and dinged, like it'd been picked up and thrown against a wall repeatedly.

"They call you 'Your Highness', and unless I am mistaken you are far from royalty admittedly by your own word," wiping the figure off.

"It started awhile ago, I'm surprised you didn't notice sooner," Susan was concentrating on something. "Everytime I correct them, they just smile and say 'Of course Your Highness'. A bit irritating but it makes them happy."

"Do you know why they do it?" leaning against his desk across the room from her.

"No, does it matter? I think they're just being nice, or overly hopeful. I don't know why," shrugging, quill scratching, "It's not like I'll live through this war, and it's not like I'd ever marry you, or you'd ever marry me. But, again - it makes them happy. Let them hope. There's little enough of it."

Merely grunting, Caspian watched as she held her injured hand cupped close to her abdomen, sighing occasionally, and making constant notations. Oddly it felt comforting after the stress of earlier, she had a tendency to have that effect on him.

Curious, "You are always writing something, tell me what is it that holds your attention so when you should be more mindful of my presence?"

"Well who do you think goes over the requirements of the units? I'm just making sure the stuff gets done properly, while you work on troop movements," she sanded the page she was working on currently, waving it slowly to speed the drying. "Glenstorm gave me that responsibility, if you don't like it, take it up with him." Shuffling papers, and then she turned to him, "Now, what was so urgent that you had to come in here like that?"

Caspian had thought he'd cleaned most of the blood off himself, and gave himself a quick check - letting out an irritated growl when he saw that his boots were still coated thickly. He didn't understand why she was so distressed though, maybe the fear of dying had unhinged her? It was possible, but he didn't think it was that. Shying away from the words that kept echoing in his mind about second chances and forgiveness, Caspian just set the broken carving down as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"I came to check on you," the only thing he could come up with.

Susan's brows rose, giving an indelicate snort, "As you can see I'm fine, and was being taken care of before you barged in. Right now you're not someone I want to see." Shaking her head, "Frankly the only reason I'm not trying to figure out how to kill you right now is because I'm too tired. But give me an hour or so and we'll see how well you'd last." Going back to her ever present stack of papers, "Now you've checked on me, so I advise you leave. Because if you want more, be prepared to have to fight very hard for it, for if you lay a single finger on me right now, I will bite it off. Or anything else you try to touch me with for that matter."

"You think you have the option of denying me? I do believe we have had that discussion before," making his way over to her, and bracing his hands on either side of her on the desk.  
That got an immediate reaction, and she spun around, the small knife she used to trim her quills in her hand pushed up against the underside of his jaw, "And as I said before, do not sneak up on someone armed. Especially when that person is mad enough to gut you."  
It stung as the skin started to break, but Caspian moved into it, daring her, "You are incapable of such things, you are too gentle."

"Oh?" and he could see Susan's teeth clench, "I think not. After all I did shove my hairpin into that thing's eye."

"It was not what killed her," crowding closer, ignoring the trickle of life that started to well from the small wound.

"It doesn't matter Caspian, because frankly it should be you who's a bit more wary, and worried, not me. After all," eyes narrowing, "it is me who you continually wrong. And it's me who takes it, and it's me who puts up with you. There's only so much abuse a person can take. And my patience with you has reached an end. Now, back away or I willhurt you Caspian. Threaten all you will, for tonight I am no gentle girl, I am no possession, and I am not anything that will have even the merest truck with you. You killed Nikabrik, and you made it hurt. I could hear his screams from here Caspian, and you have yet to give me one good reason why I shouldn't hurt you in return. No reason, no right, and no humanity - that's you. A pathetic Telmarine thing. Honourless git. Now go," a flash of sharp pain as Susan dragged the blade down rapidly and light, laying a very shallow cut to his throat.

Grabbing her by the wrist, "You dare much."

"And you've dared more!" snarling, "All I have to do is scream Caspian. That's all - and they'll come. You should know that before you anger me further."

"You think you rule them? I am King here - "

"No, you're no King you worthless pig! You're just a spoilt brat, a Prince who's wasting everyone's time, that's all. Don't push me Caspian, not right now," her voice was like an icefloe, unstoppable, frigid, and dangerous. "I will not tolerate it."

Softly, "I killed him for you."

Susan's features morphed and it took a moment for him to know what it was: disgust. "You're filth," then she spit on him.

Flinching, Caspian's eyes closed, and his free hand came up wiping it away, "He was going to take you away from me, and this is how you repay me?" knowing he probably looked murderous. But he had to shove that aside, for his honour's sake. "I take care of you, I do everything for you, I save you - and this, this," gesturing with spittle covered fingers at his face and neck, "is what you do?"

"You don't do a damn thing for me Caspian, you never have, and you never will," every line of her lovely face a study of frozen rage, "you only do them for yourself. Stop lying, stop fooling yourself - and stop thinking I ever bought it. Now let go of my hand or Lurrulg will be in her so fast you won't know what hit you."

"Not if I do not let you scream," hand snapping out to grip her throat, squeezing. "Drop the knife." She gripped it tighter, jerking in his hand. In response Caspian tightened his hold, "Drop it." Susan didn't respond, just glared at him, breathing shallowly, so he increased the pressure, "I could maintain this until you pass out Susan. Drop it." The small tool clattered as she released it, "Good. Now, come along," tugging at her neck firmly. He would have to be careful to not let her shout, so he switched his hold, and twisted her good arm behind her, his forearm around her neck, "Take a stroll with me Susan, and slide the bolt home on the door." Closing his eyes, Caspian pressed his face into the back of her hair, struggling for calm, "You will not deny me, you cannot. I will not let you. Susan," sighing into her ear as he guided their steps to his desk, "you belong to me. Accept it. When I want you, you come. And when I want you to go, you go. Simple." Kissing the side of her neck, "Do you understand? You should by now, it has been quite some time since you should have learned it."

Susan strangled out a tiny sound, injured hand going to his wrist, tugging weakly, sighing he loosened his grip a touch, "I. Do. But. Hate. You. Right. Now," wheezing it out.

"That does not matter," Caspian bottled up his anger at her, "you still do as I say."

"Let. Go. Of. Me... Please."

He could tell that the request cost her, but Caspian shook his head, "No. You will yell, and I will not be refused." Maneuvering her around carefully, Caspian lifted her up to the table, sitting on the edge, face to face, "Let us do this the easy way." Stroking her cheek, Caspian was surprised at the softness he felt, he just needed to feel her, to reassure himself that Nikabrik had been stopped in time. But the anger at Susan was there too, she dared try and keep herself from him? After everything? His lips moved over hers lightly, hand slipping from her cheek, down her shoulder, to a breast that he freed from the top of her corset, rolling his thumb over the nipple.

[REDACTED TO BE IN COMPLIANCE WITH FFN POLICY. The full chapter is on AO3, under the same story name.]

"You are mine," nuzzling. "Will not let anyone take you away." Desperation had driven him to be so harsh, all he'd wanted was to bury himself in her, for her to hold him as she had that night, to kiss him, to ease his... fears. But he couldn't tell her that, and had no way of requesting it other than what he'd tried.

She'd said no, but he'd needed her, so he took Susan.

Now, holding her tight, clutching her to his chest, "Do not say no ever again," and he hated how weak he sounded, the pleading in his voice was disgusting.

Susan leaned a bit away from him looking at him intently, "Why?"

"Because," hiding his face, fearing that something he didn't understand was going on.

Her good hand tangled in his hair, trying to tilt his head so she could see, "Hey what's this? Since when are you me?"

Caspian didn't see the humour in it, "Do not say no to me."

"I can't promise that Caspian, right now I should be at your jugular and you know it," sighing.  
Why was she so soft? He could see the thwarted rage, was quite aware of the fact that the only thing holding her in check from screaming for help was the fact that she was too tired. Obviously he wasn't aware of how pathetic he'd sounded begging for her to reassure him of the fact that she was his as he went at her. Or how vulnerable he looked right then - though he suspected the last. Eyes itching, Caspian moved to kiss her, but Susan turned her face aside.

Hand tugging at his scalp, "Stop."

Freezing for some unknown reason, Caspian looked to her, he'd almost broken his word, almost lost his honour, almost lost himself, almost lost her - how could she say no?

"Please," begging now, not understanding anything, he was becoming frightened, unsure of himself, unsure of who he was, and he needed Susan to show him, remind him, of who he was.

"Caspian I'm mad at you, and if I were to try what you're doing, what you've done - how would you act?" worn out, exhausted.

Blinking, Caspian tried to muddle through that. A woman taking a man? They didn't do that, and he expressed the sentiment.

Susan made a soft grunt of agitation, "Ignore that fact, and think about it for sake of argument. How would you handle it if the roles were reversed?"

And then he got some idea.

Swallowing, struggling with the foreign thoughts, "What must I do to make it up to you then? Gifts?"

Pursing her lips, "I don't care about gifts Caspian. I don't want them, not when you only give them to me because you think that it buys you leeway."

"Then what?" without a clue for what to do now.

Susan sighed, and her lips were on his, kissing him. For the moment as confused as he was, Caspian was calm.


	11. Chapter 11

Susan rolled over, hand encountering something. Frowning into wakefulness, she saw Caspian. And that irritated her, but she couldn't quite recall why. Oh. Then she debated quite strongly beating him awake. He'd killed Nikabrik. As well as forced her. Plus he'd strangled her while doing it. Even though she had to admit (at least somewhere deep inside) that it had been erotic as hell, having such a visible display of his control over her - but that was beside the point.

His arm was draped possessively over her, as well as a leg, a worried crease between his brows, even as he slept. Most times Caspian eased, became innocent and young looking in repose. Sighing, Susan rubbed her temples, there was a fight going on inside her skull - with war elephants and big bangs and all that guff - about whether to castrate him or to kiss him until that look on his face went away. Gritting her teeth, Susan just curled into him, because she was scared still. She'd almost died, and that was a fact - as well as the fact tha Caspian _had_ saved her life... but only for his own reasons. Always for himself, never a thing for her.

"Mphnoo," it was a whine, facial muscles twitching.

Stilling, Susan watched, it had been awhile since he'd had a nightmare that she could remember. Before the first time - he'd had them all the time. But the time since he'd been brought back by Grilf, they had seemed a thing of the past, so much so that Susan had forgotten them.

"Noo..." it was soft whimpering, lips barely moving.

Susan realized that that was what had made her roll over, waking her. Chewing her lip, Susan watched, air puffing his lips then a small twitch of his shoulders.

"Mama..." a tear squeezed from his eye, and Susan noticed how long his lashes were, almost effeminately long.

Helpless to stop how her heart squeezed at that, Susan brushed his shaggy bangs from his face, stroking his cheek, "Hush Caspian. It's fine. Hush."

"Noo..please..."

Cupping his cheek, Susan kissed his chin, "Caspian sshhh, it's okay, hush." Swallowing, Susan tried to think what his mother may have called him, "Hush love. Hush it's fine." Kicking herself for her foolishness, and how easily he could sway her, Susan crooned softly at him, "You're safe love, it's fine."

"Mama," it was a heartbreaking cracking cry, little more than a tiny sound.

Susan wrapped her arms around him tightly, the motion causing him to snap awake, fighting.

Pinned, Caspian over her, Susan waited, "Caspian, wake up... you're safe."

Mouth crashing down on her, Susan felt the sheer agony Caspian had roiling beneath the surface. He broke away gasping for breath, then rolled from the pallet, kneeling nude scarred body hideous in the light of the torches, yet beautiful for its form. And for the fact that it showed he'd survived.

Head in his hands Caspian's shoulders shook, as he visibly fought to regain a semblance of control. Licking her lips, Susan followed, resting her cheek on the back of his neck, hands hovering over his skin, wondering if she should do this or not.

Taking a deep breath, Susan lay her palms over the thick mat, careful of her injured hand, yet wanting him to feel her there. Caspian shuddered, starting to pull away, but Susan didn't let him, sliding her arms around his chest, tugging him into her. A choking noise, like he was gagging, close to vomiting, then she realized he was _crying_. Crawling around to his front, Susan tried to take his face in her hands, but he recoiled, hiding his head from her, pushing weakly at her chest.

"Caspian? Look at me Caspian, you're awake, you're safe," taking hold of his hand, massaging the skin between his knuckles.

Hiccuping, rough shivering, and still that horrific sound like he was physically ill, choking on sobs trying to stop them before they came out. Becoming impatient with him, Susan moved forward, not letting him scramble away though he tried, until she was straddling his hips, then she lay down atop him, pressing her chest to his. That did it, and Caspian's neck arched back, a forlorn howl issuing. The sound of it raised her hackles, it sounded so empty, and the way he started shaking, almost as though in seizure, frightened Susan.

Crawling further up his body, Susan cradled his face between her hands, "Caspian? Please, you're scaring me..."

Arms came up, wrapping around her, crushingly tight, squeezing the air from her lungs, He sat them up, his legs crossed beneath her bottom, rocking side to side. The sound was horrific, and Susan just didn't know what to do. Cupping his head Susan, stroked him, lending what comfort she could.

"Please," it was ragged, barely recognizable as a word. "Please, make it stop."

Flinching, "Make what stop Caspian?"

"The pain, I cannot take it..."

Clinging to him, Susan enfolded him in her embrace, legs about his waist, arms around his shoulders, forearms cocked so his head stayed in her hands, "Where does it hurt?"

Whispering, "My chest, my head. Make it stop."

"I don't know how," heartbreaking. What could have unmanned him so? "Tell me what's wrong, what brought this about Caspian?"

"Mother, I killed her, I almost did not get to you in time, you both died, make it stop!" wailing though it didn't carry far past the air around them.

Shaking her head, "Caspian that was a long time ago, and me? I'm just a possession, you know that. No great loss. Hush Caspian everything is alright."

"No!" giving a violent shake, "Mine! Mine... you are... mine...? Please... are you mine?"

"Yes," kissing his temple, holding him tighter, "I'm yours, yes I am. You know that Caspian, I'm here, I'm yours."

"Cannot... catch.. breath," sobbing, "Cannot breathe... head hurts... You make it hurt less - it still hurts? I hurt... Mine... Please, please be mine. Just mine."

It was hard to understand him, but Susan just made soothing noises, crooning to him, "Yes I'm yours Caspian, I swear. Just yours, all yours. I promise. Hush Caspian everything's alright."

"You... no...have to...promise, just please be," for all his strangled sobbing, there were few tears, each one wrenched from him, costing Caspian only god knew what. "Almost lost you... You make it hurt less," nuzzling at her chest frantically. "Need you," as he was laying her back.

Susan just nodded, opening herself for him. Terrified little mewlings came from him, when he couldn't get hard, but Susan just pulled him down atop her, "I need to hold you Caspian, please? Just.. lay on me, okay? Just, yes just like that." Stroking him with her legs and hands and mouth, Susan tried to ease him, not knowing what else to do, "Please Caspian, you make me feel safe if you just hold me like this."

Snuffling as he nodded, "Like th-this...?"

"Yes, that's it, just like that," maneuvering him, so that it was more comfortable for her as he lay atop her, his arms shoved under her back and shoulders. Showering him with soft brushes of her mouth, "What do I make hurt less...? Talk to me Caspian, I could really use you taking care of me, you take good care of me."

"I... I-I do...?" broken, "I p-protect you good?"

"Yes, perfectly, I feel much safer with you near," cuddling him.

"Cannot let you go, you make my head hurt less when I am around you," it was whispered, as his laboured gasping slowed.

Shifting Susan was surprised, "Your head hurts?"

"All the time, has for.. a year or more... never noticed how bad until you made it less," dragging his wet cheek over her shoulder.

The rent soul sobs had stopped, but the tears hadn't, Susan could feel them as the continued to leak, "Oh. Well I guess it's nice to know I'm worth more than just a convenient roll in the hay." It was both a weak attempt at lightening the situation, and a request for some reassurance of her own - would this man still be next to her in the morning, or would it all go back to the terrifying creepy man who had dogged her every step the last while.

Fingers, calloused and strong, entwined with hers, dragging Susan's hand up to his mouth, Caspian kissed the back of her hand, "You are far from convienent."

Huffing a bit, "And here I thought you'd grown fond of me."

Caspian moved, yanking her over him, flipping onto his back, hands keeping her face pressed into his neck, "I _am_ fond of you."

"Hmmmand you show that by being all snarly and all that? What is this, grade two where little Timmy Jenkins pulled my pigtails trying to make me cry?" Kissing the thick vein near her mouth, nibbling it softly, "If so I think you're a smart enough man to figure out a better way than throwing me around like a sack of grain to show me that you're 'fond' of me."

His breathing was still rapid, and his pulse was still pounding, "And how... how?"

"You were supposed to laugh, or at least try to," smoothing his cheek. "I'm trying to lighten the mood. I don't... I won't pretend to understand why you're holding me Caspian. I won't ever undertand you, you won't let me. So, I can only do what I'm allowed, and... sometimes I find that changing the subject with you works best." Susan was tired, it took alot out of her to be there for him at times, and times like now when Caspian really needed her, Susan had to shove all her own emotions away. While that seemed natural, it did wear on her, and she'd had the day from hell. Shying away from that, she burrowed deeper into Caspian's strong arms, "I can only help how you let me."

"And how can I help you?" it was soft.

Stiffening in his arms, Susan tried to wriggle away. He didn't let her, and Susan tried not to panic - no one ever asked her that, and while he was probably just asking out of trying to figure out what point of reference was going on, Susan couldn't have him asking that. No, she couldn't.

"Susan?" Caspian's still raw voice was firm, "Stop."

Fingers clenching in the bedding, Susan turned her face away, "Don't... don't act like this Caspian - you only raise my hopes, you only make it hurt worse when I wake up in the morning and you flee, or are already gone, I'm enough of a whore because of you... don't make it worse. That's how you can help me." Refusing to mention that he could help her by telling her that she wasn't crazy, that he did have some sort of feelings other than posession towards her, that it was okay that she was feeling too many things to count, that she was safe and that he wouldn't kill her, that he wouldn't let anyone hurt her like he'd hurt her. But now wasn't the time to say those things - if ever. "Don't make me think that in the morning you'll still be here, still be the Caspian who holds me close and is human around me. Don't - I.. I can't cope with it," shivering.

"I give you my word I shall be here when you wake," Caspian grabbed her chin, tilting her face up, so he could lock gazes with her.

Swallowing, Susan just stared up at him, "You... you swear? This... tonight - it happened? You won't... you won't..."

Lips stroked her forehead, the tables turned, but it was obvious that Caspian still felt exposed as well, "Ask of me and you shall recieve to the best of my abilities."

Releasing a pentup sigh, "You'll be here when I wake up, and you won't hurt me? You won't... be so scary all the time like you've been?"

"I give you my word," it was soft, "and... Susan.. you are not a whore, not my whore, not anyone's whore. You are - you are.. you are mine."

For a moment Susan thought he was going to say something different but she didn't know what. Caspian reached past their tangled bodies, dragging up the blankets once more, and he tucked them up around her and himself, staying wrapped up in her. Falling asleep to his soft touches, Susan didn't count on him being there in the morning, or even seeing this gentle wounded man ever again, but still - it was a comforting thought.

* * *

Caspian hadn't left for the patrol. In fact he hadn't really left her side, except for to train, or issues orders. Susan had even managed to drag him to the kitchens, where he'd watched a bemused expression on his face as she made several attempts at cooking. At some point he'd replaced her by the cook fire that time, demonstrating how to make simple honeycakes. And currently the fruits of his labours were resting on a napkin, while he sprawled on their bed.

Susan wasn't pleased - because he wasn't sharing.

"Look I still say you should let me taste that - make sure that you're right, and that you're better at cooking than me."  
"Make your own," turning a bit to block her grab.

"I already tried that!" throwing her hands up in the air.

He grunted, "Yes, and they shall make excellent missiles for the catapults."

"Well I made dinner," pouting.

"Which is why I am gorging on dessert," tone very reasonable. "I have eaten many things but your attempt at steak was amusing. It reminded me of home quite a bit."

Flopping next to him, Susan lay her head on his hip, looking up at him, fluttering her eyelashes, "And why did it remind you of home?"

"Because the rations that I received in training were of the same great caliber, for shoes," taking another bite and making a little noise of delight, while glancing down at her.

"Oh! You're terrible!" Rolling over so she didn't have to look at his smug expression, "If we were in Finchley I could cook fit to feed this army and make them all think that they've never had better food!"

"And what drug would you add to it to make it seem so?" another bite, and then his eyes rolled back a bit, "This is definitely one of the best cakes."

"Caspian! You're being a meanie!" crossing her arms over her chest and huffing. "What do I have to do to get a bite of that honeycake?"

One of the thick confections - really just a small ball of dough that had been rolled in honey before being wrapped up and left to bake, then rolled once more - was held before her lips, "You shall have to ask me for something."

Confused, Susan looked up at him, "What?"

"You shall have to ask me to do something to you," mischievous quirk to his lips, the likes of which was cropping up more and more frequently when they were alone. But outside closed doors, he was much the same, just stuck close to her.

Licking her lips, "What kind of something?"

"I want you to ask me to do something _to_ you," smirking, he knew that she was shy on that - he'd ask flat out for whatever he wanted, but the few times he'd asked her (a few days ago had thrown her for a loop, and each day he tried again, probably fascinated by her reaction) Susan had just huddled and clammed up, arousal quickly fleeing.

Sitting up Susan pushed the sweet away, not liking that price, and her playfulness was fleeing. It was easier to pretend that she was maintaining her morals if Caspian was the instigator - other than when he needed her because he was vulnerable - than if she asked for him to do something for her pleasure.

"Susan?"

Closing her eyes, Susan put her face in her hands, taking deep steadying breaths, "I'm fine."

Rustles and Caspian was closer, "I shall stop teasing you, here," the napkin was shoved at her.

Glancing over at him, and seeing his confusion, Susan shook her head, "I'm not hungry."

"Because I teased you? I thought - I thought you wanted me to," holding up the bread up to her mouth, "You must eat. So eat."

"No thanks Caspian, I'm fine honest, I just... I'm not hungry anymore," getting up and going to her desk. Besides she had things to plan, the death of Miraz's supporter had almost all the elements in place - so she had to check over a few last things, and then issue the go ahead. Of course Caspian didn't know that, he thought she was just seeing to the supplies, and he didn't even think to look over her shoulder most times, or check her work - so it wasn't hard to hide that from him. Though, really, really she should go over some of the leather winter clothing supplies, even the furred Narnians would need warmer clothing. It was easy to shove aside the fact that she was wanton, that Caspian did make her want to ask for things.

Trimming a quill, Susan went to check her inkpot - it was gone.

"What..?" frowning, then Susan glanced around, seeing Caspian standing there with the piece of black clay in his hands.

"You never cease your work," it was soft. "What am I to think Susan? You belong to me, yet you leave me as fast as you can. Is that not the same thing you accuse me of?"

She hadn't thought of it that way, "It's not the same."

Caspian sank to his knees, putting his chin on his arms which he rested on her table, "How is it not the same?"

"I have no choice in whether I'm yours," it came out when she hadn't intended. Wincing at the wall that slammed over Caspian's face, Susan reached for him quickly so he couldn't leave, "I didn't have a choice then. And now it's too late for the choice to matter much, because - Caspian I... I am fond of you."

His expression was still guarded, but eased at that, "I still do not see how you putting as much distance between yourself and me is acceptable. And you are not eating again."

"Caspian," exasperated, "I only just now refused something to eat, it's not like I'm not going to eat when I'm hungry!"

"...Do not do that to me again..." it was an order, but Susan knew what he meant - 'please don't scare me again'.

Hating it when he was vulnerable - as well as loving it - Susan slipped from the chair, laying her cheek on his shoulder, "I won't."

Arm coming around her, "You running away is not appropriate," grip tightening.

She still hadn't gotten him to a point where he was comfortable merely requesting things of her, instead of issuing orders. But that may never happen - not while she lived, he just would never be that man. Instead Susan tried to see what he was saying beneath the surface words, what he'd _been_ saying for a very long time. 'I need you', 'I want you', 'you make me the closest thing to happy I've ever been', 'you make me smile', 'don't hurt me', 'don't leave me'. Caspian had requested the things when they were the most important, had let her see that there was meaning behind his words.

Even if he was an infuriating beast.

And even if sometimes when he was over her, Susan had to fight to forget the pain of the first time. The fear, the anger, the hate, the sense of betrayal, the agony of torn muscles, the absolute shame. He would always be that man, capable of such things, that would never go away, and it frightened her that she was so attached to him, that his pain meant so much to her. Shivering, Susan cuddled into the very man who had hurt her, begging him to make it okay. Just like he did with her. Caspian didn't ever seem to know what it was about when she acted like this, but he managed to deal with it each time the last while, holding her tight to him.

He'd intimated that he thought it was over Nikabrik - and part of it was. But Susan's sudden shifts of mood around him were for many reasons, with the terror that he would kill her or hurt her being the root of it all. Susan had no idea how to tell him that, especially not in his obviously fragile state. The nightmares had come several times, and each time it was the almost animal panic that the only soft thing in his world would be taken away. In the end it didn't even really have much to do with Susan, that much she was sure of.

"Will you eat something now?"

"Still not really hungry," clinging to him.

"Not even for my honeycakes? They are quite good," it sounded a bit shy, a bit hopeful.

Pulling his face to hers, Susan parted her lips, kissing him, tasting honey and flour on his mouth, on his tongue that rapidly swept into her wet cavern. Moments passed and everything else but the sweetness in his mouth disappeared.

Licking her lips when she disengaged, the seriousness of earlier tucked away once more, "You're right - they are quite good."

Confusion made Caspian frown, "Pardon?"

"The honeycake I just had a bite of was quite good," touching his lips.

"I am no honeycake," still confused.

"To me you are," kissing him again. And sometimes he really was.

* * *

Susan was with Morningdew, Hopacheep and Glyrrill, her three assistants in the running of the network.

"So, this," glancing over the missive, "is a good forgery of Miraz's handwriting?"

Hopacheep nodded, "Yes, Nyrila, one of the satyrs, made it from copying one of the Usurper's letters."

Nodding, checking it for content, "Good. Good... Morningdew, is everything else in place?"

"Glyrrill?" Morningdew gestured to the gryphon.

"Your Highness, I can drop a dwarf off to do this deed in two night's travel," resting on her great golden haunches, wings folded about her.

Frowning, "Is there no way to go faster? How about a relay?"

"That would be risky," twitching her tufted ears - a gryphon version of a head shake. "We do not wish to be spotted, and we are such large things, that we cannot go high enough to fool the human eye. Not while carrying a passenger who's lungs are not used to heights, or have the ability to stay warm so high up."

Susan rubbed her chin with her index finger - a habit she'd picked up from Caspian, "Time is of the essence. Dammit all." Glancing at Morningdew, "How many gryphons do we have in on this?" making a decision she didn't like.

"Several," her tone urging caution.

But now wasn't a time for caution. It was time to be bold and decisive.

"What of the Horses? Have the Herds moved into position?"

"Of course," Hopacheep piped up.

Chewing her lip, "Fine, Glyrrill, by night you and your wing with fly our agents. By day, the Horses will transport them. This must happen," tapping her palm with the missive. "I want each to carry a copy of this, and what of the replicas of Miraz's knife?"

"Those are done as well."

"Good, good. Fine - do it. Make the last preparations ready, and I want news of Lord Sopesbian as fast as it can be carried. Do this fast, do this safe, and do _not_get caught. This mission will test our capabilities, yet it must be done. Caspian needs time," becoming intense and impassioned. "The army needs time, and it must be bought. Even the Telmarine people need time. Morningdew -" coming to another snap decision, "I want to know what the poorest villages stores look like."

A flicker of alarm went over the centaur's face but was gone just as fast as it had come, "Of course Your Highness."

"I will not have Caspian's people starving if it can be helped, any of them. I want whispers started amongst the people, I want Sopesbian dead, and I want the time to strike to be set up for Caspian." Nodding, "We do this, we pull this off, and things will be lined up for the spring campaign. And we will have bought winter to lick our wounds, to prepare further. With so many fronts, we are spread too thin, the men need time to recover, and while our fortifications at the How are strong, they could be stronger. Plus, I want delaying trenchlines as a backup spread out along the patrol fronts over the course of the winter. Emergency storehouses, fallbacks, and I want them _hidden_. Caspian will be told of them if they become necessary. Otherwise they'll serve as caches to hand out to the beleaguered after the war. I want this done with. And I want it done yesterday."

Susan wasn't sure where that came from, but she'd studied Caspian's movements of troops extensively, and she was also quite aware of the fact that an army ran on it's stomach, followed by it's clothes, then happiness, and then their weapons. Every strength should be utilzied and exploited to the utmost, squeezing every last drop of usefulness from each thing. Little did she know how much she resembled Caspian when whipping the troops into a furor, or that the months of going over endless reports, asking a constant multitude of questions about everything and anything that she was being prepared.

The Narnians saw it though.

* * *

In an amazingly bright mood, Susan was practically skipping through the How, smiling dazzlingly at everyone. Tucking a curl behind her ear, Susan even stopped and _patted_a Leopard. Much to the Creature's chagrin, it stared purring deeply like a kitten, and rolled onto it's back offering up it's belly for a rub. The generally dignified Beast was reduced to a puddle of goo that licked her hand a few times when she stopped. Many of the Narnians who witnessed this couldn't help the laughter that was held in until after Susan left. It was rare to see her in such a good mood, and the Narnians indulged her every whim most days, were even happier to do so this day.

Susan did a little twirl, skirts belling out, then grabbed them and hopped forward two jumps, then back one. Grinning Susan, knew that she had done something good. Something useful - really useful today. Sopesbian would be out of the picture (she didn't want to think of him as 'dead' because as much as he probably deserved it, again he was still a person and that distressed her) and then Mriaz's hands would be tied! At least a bit. And then wonder of wonders, the campaign season would be over, and hopefully no more enemy action would be forthcoming until at least spring.

Seeing Caspian talking with Glenstorm very serious looks on their faces (couldn't the men ever try to lighten up?) as they were discussing something probably vastly important and manly. Either that or maybe they were talking about bellybutton lint? Susan didn't care, she just wanted to see someone smile on this wonderful day. Veritably bouncing to them, Susan hooked her arm in Caspian's, and he gave her a startled look.

Beaming up at him, "Hello honeycakes, how was your day?"

"Excuse me?" absolutely perturbed, Caspian's face blanched comically.

"How was your day honeycakes?" repeating the question, voice carrying.

Gingerly Caspian tried to extract himself from her grip, "My name is not 'honeycakes'." Frowning, he started to pry at her fingers, "Look here woman -"

"Susan, honeycakes, it's Susan," leaning up and smooching him on the cheek.

Irritated, Caspian flinched away, eyes darting from side to side to see who was within hearing range probably, "Susan, let go of my arm. And do not call me 'honeycakes'. My name is 'Caspian' dammit."

Laughing at him, Susan nodded, blowing him a kiss, "Yes honeycakes!" Catching sight of Glenstorm who was only raising an eyebrow at the scene, the most overt sign the centaur would give of amusement, Susan punched it up a bit more, "Now honeycakes try to smile more, you look like you've eaten a lemon."

There was gruff rapidly muted laughter behind them from their audience, but Caspian wasn't amused, "Susan, cease and desist this at once. Do you not have something more... pressing to do than vex me?"

Pouting at him, "Well of course not, I'm just a silly girl. I don't have anything I'm supposed to do other than take care of you."

"Susan, now is not the time for this discussion," hissing, "later is more appropriate if at all. Just - go do something!"

"Anything?"

"Yes, yes, anything, just - _go_," face flushing beetred.

"Okay! I'll see you soon honeycakes," and flounced off very pleased with herself.

* * *

Susan was eyeing the Horse warily, "So, Luis, you're willing to teach me how to ride properly?"

"Yes, Your Highness, it would be my pleasure," bowing his beautifully arched chocolatey palomino neck. His mane was the colour of snow, and he was simply lovely.

Morningdew was standing beside her, "If you wish to learn to shoot while ahorse, you should only learn from the finest when it comes to equine skills in the first place."

The Horse was petite for a Horse, but he was gorgeous (as they all were), but in a way built more for speed and agility rather than strength. Wearing a dress that Rosetta and she had altered so it would suit for riding astride comfortably, rather than how most dresses were made - only for a side-saddle, Susan continued to chew her lip in apprehension. Caspian's single lesson atop Destrier hadn't ended well the one time he'd tried, and Susan was sure it had more to do with her clothing than anything else.

"Um, but don't I need a sadle? Won't I fall off?"

Luis looked briefly offended then dipped his head once more, "I would never let you fall m'Lady."

"But what if there's a battle? That's alot to keep track of," really hoping to not irritate the proud Horse.

The two Narnians glanced at eachother, and Morningdew sighed, "Your Highness, you will not participate in battle."

Snorting, "Like hell I won't - if there's a call to arms, I'm going."

"No, you are not," Morningdew's voice was firm.

"Caspian can go, but I can't? Why because I'm a girl? Morningdew that's drivil and you know it," snapping, smacking her thigh in irritation. "I may not know swordsmanship, but I am a _damn_ good archer. Damn good. And I say that with as much modesty as I can muster."  
"Both you and Caspian can't be risked at the same time," shaking her head, arms crossed. "And as he's the one suited to leading during battle of any sort, the one who has the training for it - you won't ever be going out in the field."

"What if there's no choice? Skirmishes and battles happen wherever they happen, they won't be stopped simply because little Susie Pevensie has to quit the field because she doesn't belong on it!"

"Su," Morningdew sidled back and forth, her agitation showing, "you are to be kept safe for many reasons. Not the least of which is that you know more about various... things... than most of us. And other than Caspian, no one in the upper echelons of command go out to fight. Ever. A general's place -"

"I'm no general Morningdew! I'm just a posession who happens to have a brain! I'm not a general, nor will I ever be," disgusted with all this. Pursing her lips, "Fine. Fine - you know what? This was a bad idea. I think I'll just go back to being useless. Less arguments that way, less stress."

Storming off, uncaring that she'd have to walk a solid half hour to get back to her room, and that technically Morningdew was her ride back. She'd rather walk right now. When she was part way back, there was the beat of hooves behind her. Sighing she turned around, trying to keep her expression neutral, she just wanted to be active physically sometimes, and while the air was chilly and crisp - Susan felt the need to revel in it while she still could. Winters were supposed to be harsh, and going outside the How would be difficult. That is if Caspian even let her, he was dreadfully paranoid since... the incident in the Table room.

A sharp cry from overhead was a reminder of that, a gryphon and several large Birds guarding her, ready to make hue and cry.

"Your Highness," Luis kicked a tiny bit of dirt daintily as he came to a graceful halt, "please, allow me to carry you back."

Fidgeting, Susan shook her head, "I'm afraid I'm a graceless rider, and would require assistance mounting. Not only that, but I wish to think. Alone."

Ears swiveling about, "Your Highness, I shall be your steed whenever you call. For whatever reason. Your constant companion outside of the How, a guard and a friend, if it is your wish."

Blinking rapidly Susan tried to figure out what Luis meant. Did he mean what she thought? "Even into battle?"

"Wherever you command me Your Highness, I am but your humble servant," bowing low, forelegs dipping. "I shall even where a saddle if it comforts you Princess."

Shocked, Susan was touched by the heartfelt offer, "Good Horse, please, you flatter and grace me with kindness."

Shaking his head, so his forelock flipped, "It is only the right thing to be done. Narnian royalty must have the best steed."

"I'm not royalty Luis, I know everyone calls me 'Your Highness' and 'Princess' but I'm not, I'm just Susan Pevensie, in a land I don't understand," smoothing her skirts, because she itched to touch him. Susan had loved touching Morningdew's equine half, and Luis was so beautiful all she wanted to do was rub him down the way she'd watched Caspian do with Destrier many times.

As though he sensed her desire, he took a few steps closer, bumping her hip with his nose, "If that is your wish Your Highness, then I shall call you thus. Lady Susan Pevensie, I am yours to command at all times."

Shivering, Susan made a tiny sound of joy at how velvety his nose felt as she stroked it softly, "Just Susan will do, or Su. But, tell me, Sir Luis -"

"Just Luis," and then he visibly struggled, "Susan."

Smiling, "As you say Luis, tell me why is it that Caspian does not have such a splendid companion for himself?"

"The Herds do not trust him," it was hesitant.

"Why?" fingers traveling over his head, scratching lightly, then more firmly as he leaned into the attention.

"Because he is Telmarine through and through, despite the blood he bears in his veins, but he has been proving himself slowly to us," Susan couldn't stop herself, he was so warm and horsey smelling, she stepped up even closer, so his head hung over her shoulder, hugging him and scratching at the root of his mane. "Oh thank you Susan, that is very nice. Are you sure you do not know how to ride? For you know a Horses needs quite well," happy little wuffles.

Feeling far calmer and more at ease since Morningdew had told her that there was no way she'd be allowed to fight - not that she wanted to, but Susan refused to stay tucked away if a fight came, while everyone else was out fighting. She'd do her part and no one would stop her. It was the right thing to do, and it was the responsible thing. So - it would be done. Even if she had to go out with a broom to hit people with.

Taking deep breaths of Luis' scent, "But everyone thinks I'm Telmarine."

"Only those with no eyes to see, no Telmarine is as kind as you, they are an evil people," it came out very sure.

"That's not true, what of the people? The peasants? They're people, just under the rule of a harsh set of Lords that set the laws," closing her eyes, arms wrapping more tightly about the neck thick with muscles. "That doesn't make them evil, just their overseers. Do not blame the son for the father, do not blame the Lord for the soldier, and do not blame the people for the king."

"Do you know what they do for sport Your Highness?" the Horse forgot momentarily.

Wincing, Susan buried her face in his neck, "Yes, yes I do. But it's ignorance Luis, it has to be. A whole people can't be bad. They can't."

"And this is why you are Narnian Susan, this is why the Herds have come down from our valleys, some of us at least," the round part of his jaw rubbing the back of Susan's shoulder.

"I don't understand," shaking her head, squeezing tighter. There was much she didn't understand, and why she loved these people, this place so much, and why the seemed to care for her in turn, was a large part of it. It was unnatural, yet it felt like the most natural thing of all.

"There are whispers, they have traveled through the ranks swiftly, a Daughter of Eve, a daughter of no land, of no place, has come," Luis pulled away, and started walking beside her, Susan leaving a hand on his shoulder. "Thirteen hundred years ago the White Witch enslaved us, laying thick blankets of eternal winter upon us. And thirteen hundred years ago, two Sons of Adam, two Daughters of Eve came. Krispen the Mighty, Lucitania the Swift, Myrozo the Clever and Nylasimina the Kind - with the help of Aslan they destroyed the White Witch. Kirspen the Mighty became High King, and sired the line of which Caspian comes from."

"And what of the others?"

"The children of the other King and Queens married into other countries, leaving the land open to their native people's.. natures. But, you are a Daughter of Eve, so - many think that it is a sign. It gives them hope and faith," tossing his head, swishing his tail. "And at the least an infusion of a new Daughter to the old High King's line would be a good thing indeed for the line."

Susan wasn't sure if Luis was one of those who believed it or not, she didn't know him well enough to tell, "Faith is definitely a strong motivator when greatly outnumbered." Dried grass crunched beneath her feet as they neared the entrance to the How, "But I don't put stock in such things, despite the comfort they bring. I am but a girl Luis."

"Just as Caspian is just a man?" large blue eye blinking at her.

"He is just a man, one with difficult training, one with no more right to rule than anyone else," coming to a stop. "Wars are brought about because people crave power, and fear its loss. Power is inside here," tapping her head, "and here," her chest, "not in some chair or crown. It is in what's right, wrong, and what's efficient in the long run."

"Then why do you wish to fight? Why do you lead?" he looked confused.

"Because when war comes, someone has to try and make sure that there's something left afterwards other than ruin," shrugging, "And I'm not a leader Luis. I'm not royalty, I'm not anything but a girl in a strange place who's just trying to ignore the fact that this isn't home. So I distract myself by helping where I can, how I can; I never could stand staying idle. Besides," smiling at him, "I love the Narnians, those I do know and those I don't. And those that bear the name 'Telmarine' are just Narnians who're lost, so of course I'll do my best to be useful to everyone. It's only right."

Leaving behind a very thoughtful Horse, Susan went into the How, looking for someone who was 'just a man'.

Though she'd never believe he was something so simple.


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry for the late update. I'm really not feelin' so hot. Thanks to the reviewers. I really truly promise I'll get back t'y'all. And hopefully the double vision will stop. Stupid migraines...

XXXXXXXXXXX

Caspian watched as Susan straightened her skirts after their activities with a small smile. Laying on his back with his head in his hands, Caspian smirked even more, pleased with himself. Parts of his chest stung from her nails where she'd clawed him in her passionate throes, and feeling himself stir for a fifth time in just a few hours, Caspian debated calling her back to him.

"Caspian, you have to go out soon," her blue eyes skipped over his thickening manhood up to his eyes, reading his mood.

"Ah yes, I leave for two weeks, should I not store up your touches?" running his hand from his shoulder to his cock, rubbing it slowly. The blush that crept into her cheeks was further fuel for his lusts, "And should you not store up mine?"

"You'll be late," though Caspian noted how she clenched her fingers in her heavy skirts. "And since you insist on going out on patrols, the troops expect your presence to bolster them. On time."

"Mmmhmmm, come here," beckoning. "Let me have another taste of your lips then," propping himself up on an elbow.

"Caspian..." a note of admonition, "you'll be late..."

"Come, now," frowning at her, patting the spot next to him.

A flash of resistance went through her eyes, and the flush on her face changed, "Caspian - I'm not a dog."

"Susan, do not make me get up," he would be gone for days, and Caspian wanted to feel her in his arms once more, writhing and straining as he drove himself into her body. Things had been good lately, and while he was absolutely disgusted with himself for his behaviour of late - as well as her at times - Caspian would not look a gift horse in the mouth. She'd been attentive and obiediant while still telling him off, which was a source of amusement once more. Not only that, he had to admit that he liked that she touched him now whenever she felt like it, those hands running over him smoothing his skin, mouth following the strokes.

She stood there staring at him a moment, then sighed, and knelt on the pallet. "One kiss," cocking her head at him, looking stern.

As though she could even try and say no, "Susan," warning tone, "do not attempt to gainsay me."

"I know, I know," sighing in irritation, "or I'm in big trouble. Yes I've heard it all before. Don't you know I get tired of that? And don't you ever try to come up with something new? Something original? You don't have to order me about Caspian, a request works just as well. Try asking me sometime, see what happens."

Irked, Caspian growled, "Requests are for the weak."

"Fine," as she gave him a perfunctory kiss, then pulled away waiting.

Closing his eyes, Caspian felt his temples start to throb, the beginning of a headache forming - when he wasn't with her for long periods or when she was agitated, they seemed to get worse, as though some mad sprite were playing a game with his brain. Between gritted teeth, "Susan, do not test my patience."

"What do you want from me?"

Almost confused by the question Caspian thought he'd been fairly plain, he'd wanted her to come and kiss him. To come and touch him. Hadn't she been able to figure that out? Or maybe she had, and... and what? It was all so incomprehensible. The peace he'd felt for many days fleeing, draining away from him as fast as water from a bucket with no bottom.

Closing his eyes, Caspian lay back, a gust of air exiting his lungs in a whoosh, "Nevermind."

Susan shifted and lay a hand on the center of his chest, "Caspian..."

Pushing the soft weight from him, Caspian got up and got dressed rapidly not looking back at her. Nothing was said, but he could feel her eyes on his back when he closed the door. Why couldn't she just do what he wanted? Why did she always have to fight him? Especially since he could tell she'd wanted him as much as he'd wanted her.

Destrier was already saddled and ready, Glenstorm standing by the equine calmly.

Clasping forearms, "I would try to dissuade you yet again from leaving - "

Caspian shrugged, "- yet it never does any good," finishing the sentence. It had become customary for his second to see him off, and the words were the same each time. Inclining his head to the centaur, "I have my reasons."

"And you have your causes," taking a step back, allowing Caspian the room necessary to swing up.

"Which will never change," reins in hand, free hand braced on his thigh. "Until next time."

With a backwards wave, Caspian sped off, hooves clattering on the stone until he hit dead grass. He had much ground to cover before nightfall, having shunned a guard this time. By dusk he should have managed to come across a few scouts, who would go with him to the next camp, and he'd frog hop through the hideaways spending a night here or a morning there. Reaching the edge of the trees, Caspian slowed Destrier for a moment, fighting the urge to look over his shoulder.

Giving in, Caspian glanced and near the top most of the scout ledges, a bright slash of colour sparkled. Lips twisting, brow furrowing, Caspian stared for a few moments longer, knowing that Susan was watching him leave. Not sure what to think, Caspian fell back on his long habit of not thinking when uncomfortable things were happening. It was the only way to counter what his gut was telling him - normally so accurate and trustworthy, yet in the face of Susan was worthless - to turn around and race back, embracing her one last time.

Wheeling Destrier, Caspian set off.

XXXXXXXXX

Gratefully Caspian took the waterskin from Grilf, now his main commander this far out. The minotaur had proven himself several times over, redeeming himself in Caspian's eyes since his insubordination in times past. Four days of heavy riding, interspersed with 'breaks' consisting of not enough sleep, not enough food, and many hours in the saddle as he took his turn patrolling with a small group did make for thirsty work.

Wiping his mouth off on his sleeve, "Tell me how are things looking here? Any action?"

"Just a few feints, I think they're feeling us out, see how far they can push," Grilf was seated comfortably, back against a trunk.

"Odd," Caspian mused, "that has been the news everywhere."

"Is that not a good thing Your Highness, doesn't it mean that Miraz's generals are pulling back now that winter fast approaches?"

Taking another long pull, Caspian shook his head, "Possibly, possibly not. I do not like it."

"Then maybe you should return? I don't wish to have my neck in the noose, but -"

Cutting him off, "Now is not the time for such things. It is in the past, and it will not happen again. Understand?"

"Of course Your Highness," his tone reserved, and Caspian knew that should trouble, real trouble, break out once again he'd be unceremoniously hustled off.

Grunting, Caspian flopped on a gnarled root, resting his weary bones, it'd been too long since he'd ridden out and done any real work. Though helping with the strengthening of fortifications could be considered 'work', to Caspian it was little more than something to do in between chances at a fight. He was bored frankly, very bored. At the start of this war he'd fought almost every other day, raiding villages and enemy camps, or scouting new hideouts, reaching the Narnians through the mountain passes. How much talking had he had to do to get this army? And yet still not all Narnians were behind his banner, many just wished to hide. While he offered them freedom at a fairly simple cost - supplies and men - many still avoided the conflict as though they had a choice. They didn't, for Caspian knew Miraz had desired to expand the territories, and eventually Archenland or the Lone Islands would be ground down with the Narnians caught in between. Caspian could see the logic of that, expansion was good for a nation, but at the same time there was more than enough land for everyone right now, why waste resources for empty things that would come his way eventually?

"Your Highness," Grilf interrupted his thoughts softly, and Caspian wondered at how wrong he'd been about the minotuar - for the man was very far from being dumb as a rock.

"What?" cracking an eyelid to look at him.

"Is there... news of the Lady Susan?" there was a hopeful edge to it that Caspian wasn't sure if he liked, but he could find no reason for why.

"She is well," loosening his gorget, his answer obviously not enough to satisfy the commander's curiosity. Sighing, "She has taken up riding with one of the Horses and has befriended a few gryphons."

"The Lady Susan is a great friend to us all," nodding happy at the report.

Caspian held his tongue on that, for he didn't know what Susan was to him, only what others thought she was. A wife - absurd, yet the Narnian law that had been spoken of was true, thus making Susan exactly that in their eyes. The only complication was that Caspian didn't _want_a wife, they were too much trouble, even a mistress was a bit much. His headaches had returned threefold, urging him to follow his gut's instincts and jump on Destrier, racing back to her sphere of influence. Absolute stupidity, Caspian was going soft, hopefully this time out here would help him toughen back up. Even though some softness was alright, some was soothing, and helped him face the stress of each day, but relying too much on Susan was an easy pitfall to jump headfirst into - and the results weren't pleasant.

Like not being able to taste her once last time before coming out here.

He should keep that in mind next time, so that he wasn't in such a foul mood.

"Grilf," surprising himself by asking, "why are the Narnians so... interested... in her?"

It was the minotaur's turn to shift about uncomfortably, "You are Telmarine, she is not. A.. match between the two would be benificial."

Raising a brow, "A match?"

"Yes, Your Highness, she is... different. A Daughter of Eve, a daughter of no land," it echoed other things Caspian had heard, things he'd read as a child.

"'And lo, come Sons of Adam by two, and lo again, for Daughters of Eve twice more. Children of no land, children of Aslan, come here to do aught but save us'," quoting the old history. "You think her some saviour?" trying to hide the mocking tone of his voice.

"Saviour? No, that would be you, Your Highness. But."

"But? Speak up," ordering him to continue.

"It will displease you," and Caspian wondered how old this minotaur was - some lived to be a century, though few did now because of the continual hunt for Narnians.

Straightening up, "Then I need to hear it. Say on, I will not hold the opinions of others against you."

"Your blood is thin, the Narnian line all but forgotten by your Council of Dogs," spitting a thick wad of mucus to the side at mention of the Council, then Grilf continued, "a fresh infusion would remedy that. And, the Lady Susan - she makes you more Narnian in temperament, though I don't think anyone could ever figure you for anything but Telmarine. A King is only as strong as his Queen and her influence on him."

A bit offended - well, more angry than anything, yet Caspian bottled it up for a later explosion, "A Queen's influence is not something to be desired. A woman has little head for politics, warfare, or much of anything but clothes and pretty baubles. A distraction from the finer points of rulership, and you would have me take one? No, a mistress to bear my sons is good enough for me."

Though quietly Caspian knew Susan was far from interested in pretty things, she took a hand in the governing of this effort, making sure that supplies got where they needed to, having taken that weight from his shoulders. And she was thrifty, good with numbers, and... some of her suggestions had been useful. That did not make her material for a ruler. Let alone the Narnian standard for co-ruler. It was one of the drawbacks of the Narnians, their open acceptance of a woman's power, yet all around him he'd seen some of it's applications. He didn't like it, but it had to be coped with. Plus Susan had been right (unfortunately he was seeing that she was often right, and that was another thing he didn't like) about his need to not leave the female Narnians out. While he'd always used them, the idea made him discomforted, but he wouldn't waste what little manpower he had.

"Then Your Highness you are in a bit of a bind," Grilf seemed humoured.

Waving his hand dismissively, "I am aware of the tradition now, yet I was not then. Believe me when I say she is not my wife, not now." Not yet, a whisper in the back of his mind. "And is not likely to become so, for it would not be to her will," adding that to cater to the Narnian's other tradition: a potential wife had to be willingly that.

And Susan never would wish to be such, she'd made it quite clear before. He was little more than a robber baron to her, some animal that had gained power and was clutching at it for stupid reasons instead of good ones. She'd said as much to his face and worse. Her opinion was lower than low, yet still she acquiesced to his demands. Most of them.

"True you are no prize," Grilf actually laughed, "afterall you are Telmarine. No decent woman would want that. Too harsh, too cruel, too much of many things, not enough of others." The soldier caught himself after that, realizing his mistep, "I appologize Your Highness, it is - "

Face black with rage, Caspian got up, stalking off to prevent himself from skewering a good commander for simply expressing his opinion. His father would listen to others thoughts, and Caspian had to remind himself of this many times to stop his wish to wipe that knowing look off Grilf's face. To think his people thought him unworthy of a Narnian woman, yet they claimed loyalty to him, it was more than he could bear. On the whole he had thought he was a good leader, and had yet to see proof as to otherwise, but as a person his people thought him not good enough for a mere slip of a girl-woman? Insulting to put it mildly.

Panting in anger, Caspian yanked his sword out, slipping into forms, trying to blank his mind from all these odd feelings and thoughts, ignoring the overwhelming desire to tell Susan these things and ask her for her take on it. She was not his equal, she was his possession, she was not his wife, she was his mistress, and it was she who was not good enough for him. Yes, and maybe if he kept telling himself that, his gut would stop saying otherwise. For all the gifts he'd given her, for those things he'd even made with his own hands, and for all the good treatment she'd received - and still he was lacking: that simply could not be true. He'd wooed her far beyond what any Telmarine would, by now a Lord would have had more than earned her, earned her a thousand-thousand times over. How the Narnians could conceive other ideas he had no clue, and never would. Afterall - he _was_Telmarine.

For the second time he wasn't so sure that was a good thing.

XXXXXXXXX

Destrier reared as he took three quarrels to the neck. Kicking free of the stirrups, Caspian leaped to the ground, landing on his feet, unsheathing his sword. They had stumbled upon a small group of Telmarine's, no more than twenty or so, or so Caspian had thought. Quickly he realized it had been a trap. But it was too late though. A loud lowing from a minotaur, and shouts from his other men, and Caspian roared knowing the sound frightful. It was an odd habit he'd picked up from the Narnians - issuing a viciously eerie sound in battle. The Telmarines were often taken aback by it, making them pause for a moment. And a moment was all it took for Caspian to have sprung forward, empty left hand slamming out, fingers curving into claws and crushing a windpipe, as his sword swung the other way, back-slashing an opponent over the eyes, blinding him. Spinning, Caspian managed just barely to block a heavy handed blow from a Telmarine.

Grunting Caspian, threw his weight into his attacker, but the man outweighed him by almost five stone and had a distinct advantage with that. Straining, Caspian tried to stay aware of all that was around him but it was difficult. Normally _he_was the one with advantage - with Destrier. Shoving the ache in his chest away knowing that his partner of fifteen years was gone, Caspian spit in the large man's eyes, distracting him long enough for Caspian to grab the soon to be dead soldier's belt knife and ram it into his eye socket. Blood shot out, and Caspian ducked in time to avoid being blinded himself from the gout, and spun to meet his next target.

Stamping, and stomping, feet shuffled and skid through the leaves now drenched with the waste of the dead. The smell of shit, piss, death, and blood hung thick in the air, and Caspian would have felt fear but had never had any towards dying while fighting. But a part of him did worry for Susan, for the Narnians, but mostly, oddly, intensely, for Susan. Maybe she could succeed where he'd failed with the guidance of Glenstorm and Morningdew. Issuing another challenging roar, Caspian swung and thrust, hacked and slashed, blood pumping from innumerable hurts, unwilling to be taken alive. Distantly a part of him was amazed that he even thought Susan may be able to handle leadership, but she'd be a figurehead mostly, and another soldier died as he hacked into an exposed throat. After all this time, Caspian thought that the Telmarine soldiers would wear gorgets to protect their necks, for he mostly used point work to circumvent the rest of the armour that they wore.

Then a sickening realization came - he was the last one standing, and all his opponents were using the flats of their blades, battering at him, and dancing aside before he could kill them. If he'd been a man of faith he'd pray to Aslan, but he was not. Pausing for a moment, catching his breath, Caspian glared at all of them, "Well?! Come and meet your death!"

A chilly, familiar, twisted voice came following the clip-clop of hooves, "I think not my Prince."

"Inigo," spitting the name out. "Coward! Come, come and fight me you shit sucking honourless whoreson!"

"Again, I think not," gesturing, and two men came forward, nets in their hands.

Howling, Caspian threw himself at the nearest cluster of men, taking them by surprise and almost managed to get away, but the press of bodies was too much, not allowing him any range of movement. Roaring once more, Caspian thrashed, and then heavy rope crashed down over him. Kicking and spitting, hissing, snarling like an enraged beast Caspian struggled, trying to go for his boot knife, to kill himself if necessary. Telmarine hospitality was not something he wished to be party to.

"Stop him!" and then bones crunched as a boot slammed down on his hand.

"I will see you dead Inigo," growling low, dangerous, as hands bound him up, then he was being dragged.

"I think not Prince, for you have fallen quite low," his one time training mate squatted over him, grabbing his chin and forcing his head back far.

"You think too much," hissing, "instead of acting!" Fighting every inch, Caspian tried to trigger enough rage in the short-tempered captain, "You do know I fucked your worthless sister. She was good you know. Stretched her so far she almost split."

Receiving a backhand, "So it was you who ruined Father's chances at using her to cement an alliance. I would kill you for that, but that is what you want me to do. No my friend, I shall not grant you such respite." Dark laughter, "Miraz will be pleased with me for bringing you in. I always knew you were too fond of your troops and of blood, and that eventually you would make a mistake and come out here. I waited so long... and here you are."

"Go rot you sack of shit," then Caspian ignored all that was done, the rough beating he took as he was hauled away. All the while he plotted.

XXXXXXXX

Unable to bite back the scream, Caspian's back arched when the hot coal was placed on his inner thigh.

"Ah now that is music to my ears," Inigo purred.

Fighting to stay conscious, Caspian panted, never in his life had he felt such pain. He'd felt all sorts, but they were quick, brief things, this - this was torture. Well that was the point, a manically amused part of his brain noted.

"I wonder, how much of this can you take Caspian?"

Gritting, "As much as you can dish."

"Good, good, I like that sort of answer. I like that you will not be easily broken. Maybe as reward Miraz will allow me to entertain you for a while back at Highfall," nodding conversationally as he sipped some wine.

The coal was removed, and then Inigo poured the rest of his wine on Caspian's leg. Caspian's vision darkened, but for some unmerciful reason he couldn't pass out. Watching, while clenching his teeth to keep in a whimper, as Inigo poured another drink, and approached, Caspian wondered at the man before him. At one point they could have been called 'friends'. As much as any Telmarine aristocrat could have such a relationship, they had. In fact there had been a few whispers as to what they did behind closed doors, but all they'd ever been was comrades. Both had been bookish, both had fondness for simpler pleasures than the complex decadence of most Telmarines. The man before him bore no resemblance to the one he'd known once upon a time.

Breathing shallowly, Caspian just stayed still, knowing that the only hope he had now was saving enough strength to get a chance to kill Inigo. Then himself. Because there was no escape from this but death. And - and he knew too much, knew that anyone with the right persuasion would confess and tell anything. Miraz was good at it, he'd been witness to some of his uncles guests, many of whom would do anything for him by the time he let them die. If he let them die. It would take Miraz years to kill him, and only once he'd become a grovelling, slobbering thing unrecognizable as a man, let alone Crown Prince. There was no way he could let that happen.

"So quiet Caspian," Inigo was over him, sinking to his haunches, and whispering near his ear, "are you dreaming of escape? I hope you are, I truly hope you are. Because seeing your desperation as you realize that there is none will be the sweetest reward of all."

"I was merely being polite friend, allowing you the pleasure of hearing your voice, seeing as it is the only thing you have - your manhood was robbed long ago," working hard to get enough saliva in his mouth to say that.

A heavy backhand split his lip further, and Caspian's already partially swollen eye went the last bit of distance and shut. Would it be worse not seeing what was in store for him, or more merciful?

"You always were a self-righteous bastard," it came out easy, but Caspian knew that the calmer Inigo seemed, the closer to snapping he was.

"And you never could keep your word," laughing, jerking against his bonds.

"It will not be so easy as that my friend," another blow landing, stunning Caspian momentarily. "I have learned much, and I know my rewards will far outweigh any insult you can give me. If you are returned intact, fully intact," a vicious jab at Caspian's groin, making him grunt, "I will have the pick of any of the bitch daughters I want."

And then Caspian understood, "You are in love."

Silence, and Caspian had to crane his neck to see him. Inigo's face was a stoic mask, the truth plain to see to someone who knew him. Knowing now that there was no way he'd be able to push Inigo to killing him, Caspian came close to despair. Now his last hope was this - reaching Miraz intact, and suffering through torture unimaginable to those who were unaware of just how twisted his uncle was, hoping it would distract the usurper enough so that the Narnians could either wipe out Miraz and his army, or get away, seek shelter in some other country. Taking a deep breath, Caspian closed his eye, waiting and resting while he could.

XXXXXXX

Caspian was being transported, that much he was aware of through the haze of pain. He prayed for time, not to delay his own torture, but for Susan. Was she well? His thoughts kept straying to her, and how he wished for her soothing kisses. How foolish he'd been to not turn to her once and request for her to kiss him. It would have been so simple, so simple indeed - and it would have only cost him a little, just a bit of air. 'Please, will you kiss me Susan?' - that was what he should have said, at least once, so that she knew he'd heard her. Thinking of her distracted him from his agony, so Caspian didn't stop himself, not when those thoughts were all that kept him from screaming insanity. Hot coals burning holes through his skin - but no farther than that, Inigo knew what he was doing and wouldn't do anything to hinder his ability to please Miraz - had a tendency to do that. Not when one wasn't used to the pain. Soon enough though, Caspian was sure he'd think that Inigo's treatment was a walk in the park during a spring morning. So, he tried to think only on Susan.

He wished he'd made another set of pins for her, they looked so pretty in her hair, all stuck this way and that sometimes, or twisted in neatly. Seeing the products of his time adorning her gave him a thrill that was simple, and wonderful in a way that was unfamiliar. When it came to Susan he was in uncharted waters, he saw that now, truly saw that. And saw that his gut had always been right concerning her, he should have always listened to it, even if it ran contrary to what he knew, what he'd been raised with. For a third time, Caspian felt that being Telmarine wasn't a good thing.

"Susan..." whispering her name because no one was near, and because the sound of it was calming.

His eyes were long swollen shut, and his abused flesh was not very strong. But Caspian didn't fight whenever he was fed, he ate, and ate as much as they gave him. And when he was given drink, he drank. He'd need his strength to buy time for Susan. Because now, now he knew something - she'd been his driving force for some time now. Not understanding it, Caspian simply accepted it. Whatever it was he felt, he wasn't sure, but it was there, and it was the strongest thing he'd ever felt in his life - a life full of pain, anger, despair, hate, fear and cynisim - and this soft thing, it was the thing that was allowing him to not cry for death.

Shoving that away for right now, Caspian imagined Susan's face. Lips so full and raspberry bright, so soft to kiss, so dangerous - she was always dangerous to his senses. To his common sense. Each press of her mouth brought fire and ice and something in between... an easing of his insides. A moment to forget everything going on around him, and a moment to not see all the danger that was waiting to swallow him up. Unable to stop the blissful sigh escaping his mouth, Caspian just let the peaceful memory sweep him.

"What are you thinking of?" Inigo's voice ruined his reverie.

Pursing his lips Caspian studiously stayed quiet.

"I asked you a question," a prod to a burn.

Groaning in pain, then, "Of you impaled publicly."

"I do not think so," another poke.

"True you do not think much," mocking. "You do not think Miraz will really give you what you want? Not in the long run."

"Drop the act," it was a hiss.

Laughing breathlessly, "All I have is an act you fool. And you expect me to give it up to the likes of you? You are stupider than you used to be." Grunting, shifting trying to relieve some of the tension of his bonds, shivering a bit in the chill air due to his nudity (prisoners were afforded no dignity), "Love has made you blind, you can only see your hope - aahhhhhhhhh!"

Something blunt was shoved into the burn on his chest, dug and twisted about, "Silence!"

Hysterically, Caspian chuckled, "Too close to home! Ha! Shall I tell Miraz? Oh I do not think I shall need to - he already knows most like!" Shaking his head, "You make deals with a devil Inigo. I thought you had more to you than this..."

"Silence Caspian, you know nothing," and then a woosh of air as Inigo left the back of the wagon.

Left alone once more, Caspian sagged in on himself, whispering, "Oh Susan... please.." and he choked on a sob, "I am a fool..." needing her desperately. But she'd never be there, and he was so lost now, his life in shambles. He had to stay strong, purchase the chance at freedom for others. It was dawning slowly that he was never going to see her again, or Glenstorm, or anyone else - not unless things went very badly. Shuddering at the thought, Caspian huddled inside his mind, clinging to an imaginary Susan for comfort. If only he'd gotten one more kiss, if only he hadn't stormed away from her when he left. Alot of 'if only's'.

And here he was, waiting, trying to make a last desperate bid. Not for the Narnians like it should be, for they'd earned his loyalty in turn for all they'd done to support this effort, but for Susan. Always for Susan it seemed. Every insane thing he'd done was for Susan. From rushing headlong, drawing a force of almost three hundred Telmarines into another backup patrol, and seeing so many of his men die, to fleeing her repeatedly so that he could learn to cope with how he felt, to this - this utter insanity, this selfless stupidity, of trying to hold out and buy time that may mean nothing. Truly he cried then, when he put name finally to it all. Love. _He_ was in love, and it was the most potent thing in all the world.

And now it was too late to do anything about this new found knowledge. Nothing but make one last attempt at saving Susan.


	13. Chapter 13

Nat:

Okay reply to review from section 10: Yes she's strong, but its really just hiding in the sand though, she just doesn't want to face or think about what 'will' happen or what 'could' happen, so she just goes on working and distracting herself in all ways that she can.

And relpy to the review from section 12: Your wish is my command... her response is below...

Ash: I'm so glad I made it credible. I remember alot of my friends I was hammering it out with were like "I just don't see it happening, I really don't" and somehow I managed to satisfy them, and you. That makes me happy.

Liz: Sorry for the wait, what happens next is below.

Elena: I wasn't expecting it to end on a cliffhanger actually, it just felt like the right spot to end it. So hopefully this makes the boo-boo less.

bon: Hello welcome to this little end of the messed up fic world that's Lurking In The Shadows, hope you have tissues and a glass of water. You'll need it in the longrun for all the dry mouthed heart clenching stuff.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

This is just a little side note, just for those who haven't been exposed to the women's movements in history, the war efforts and all that hoopla. Its just here to give you a little flavour, a little idea of what went on. Nothing more, nothing less. If you're interested in more about those things, there's plenty of reputable sources out here on the World Wide Webs...:

During WWII many women worked in factories (for those of you who didn't know that), and did things that had classically be considered men's work. This was part of the roots of the women's movement in many countries, not _the_root of it, just part of it. Many women worked as machinists, and made the weapons utilized by the soldiers on the front. They packed the parachutes, they made the bullets, they did much of everything. Queen Elizabeth II even assisted in the war effort, working upon planes taking their engines apart and putting them back together.

Women, were never an untapped workforce, but at that time there were even fewer housewives, for they had to work to support their families, and their countries. It is a common misconception that women didn't work jobs at the turn of the twentieth century (except that of 'women's' work, like nurses, school teachers, and the like - which actually not that long before had been men's work. Go figure.) because many did. Particularly during the industrial revolution, during Queen Victoria's reign.

At least according to my highschool text books. Man that was ten years ago that I read that, and I still remember it - groovy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Your Highness a messenger has arrived, and Glenstorm requests your presence," Jumbletot had come while she was finishing up mending a bit of chainmail.

Frowning at him, "Why would he need me?"

"I don't know Your Highness, but I was told that they wanted you there as fast as possible," the dwarf fidgeted.

Setting the armour down, "Alright, lead on."

It wasn't far, just a few rooms down, but the air of unease coming from Jumbletot was palpable. As if it couldn't get any thicker, inside the command room, the attitude was ten times worse. A miasma of despair and shock. Glenstorm's ever serene face, was a mask of anger and pain, even more so than when he'd found out about Ironhoof's death. And Grilf, the kind minotaur was bandaged thickly, his bovine face twisted in a riot of agony not the sort felt physically.

Alarmed, "What is this? Grilf, why are you not on the lines? Where's Caspian? Is he hurt? Where is he?!"

"They attempted to capture him, it is my hope that he is dead, if not," a ragged sound came from Grilf, "if not then he is in a hell far worse than you or I could imagine."

Hand flying to her mouth, Susan's eyes widened in terror, "What happened?" strangling on the words.

"A trap, a very good trap, and it's not the only one that's happened, most of them came to naught but a few casualties, but this one - they swept in afterwards, and I pulled my command back," shame was thick in his voice. "It left no time for us to search for His Highness."

Knees buckling, Susan stared at the floor, "You mean he's still out there? He could be alive... He has to be... He.. he can't die.. he.. he can't leave me.."

"Your Highness," Glenstorm's voice, normally so soothing and gentle, was strong and firm, "You are now Heir to the throne. It is now you that we follow, for even if he yet lives, Caspian is lost to us."

"No," shaking her head, "no Glenstorm. I'm just a girl. I know nothing -"

"You've set up a network of spies, you've made battle plans, and I have heard you have done many things other than that," Glenstorm actually snapped at her. "And you are a Daughter of Eve, and you are Caspian's _wife_! It is your place to lead us now. I will help you, as I helped him, there are things I know that you do not know. I will guide you, as will Morningdew. There are many of us here with much experience, we will assist. But now you must take up the reins of leadership as befits your status."

"Wife?! I'm not his wife Glenstorm! Don't.. don't say things like that..." whimpering, hiding her head in her hands, "I'm not cut out for this, I'm just a girl Glenstorm! I can't take this... We need to find Caspian.. he'll know what to do..." shivering.

"She doesn't know," Grilf sounded incredulous, "You didn't tell her?"

"I thought he would have told her," their voices were soft, and Susan registered only the barest amounts.

They weren't going to go and find Caspian. That wouldn't do. No, no that wouldn't do. She kept shaking her head back and forth, staring at the pale purple and blue of her dress. A dress Caspian had gone to much trouble to get for her. No, no they had to go find him. Running her hands over her hair, Susan was poked by wood, wood tha Caspian had carved for her, though again he'd never said so in words. Closing her eyes, Susan tried to steady her breathing. There was a time not so long ago she'd vowed to help him however she had to.

"Your Highness, you and Caspian lived as husband and wife for more than three months, so you are wedded," Grilf's voice broke through her fog.

Another breath, and Susan lifted her face to look at him, "That explains it then. It is of no import now." Rising regally, Susan stared straight ahead, dtermined, and would not be unmoved from this course, "Glenstorm," her voice oddly composed, "I am head of this army now, yes?"

"Of course Your Highness, now we must adjust our forces to cover the hole left by -"

"Gather the gryphons," blinking firmly once, then sliding her gaze to him, holding the centaur hostage with her eyes, "and gather the Birds. I want to know where the troop positions are. I want to know of any odd or random seeming patterns of movements from the enemy."

"Of course Your Highness, that will help us cover our weakened fronts and allow me to suggst -"

"Silence Glenstorm," firmly. "You will listen while I talk. I want reconnaissance done, detailed reconnaissance. Have Mice infiltrate and listen, as well as Cats, to the conversations. I want to know everything that is going on. Everything. If a commander sneezes I wish to know. If one takes a particularly disgusting crap, I want to know." Smoothing her skirts an ever present habit that she just now noticed, and stilled her hands from their fidgeting, "I want to know everything Glenstorm. You may handle the fighting and distribution of troops. But I want heavy scouting, I want intensive spying on each camp. And I want to know it all - all of it. Not a single possibly insignificant detail is to be left out. Grilf - you know the terrain of the outskirts of our eastern and western fronts, do you not?"

Bowing, "Yes Your Highness."

"Good, good," nodding to herself, and Susan closed her eyes, seeing Caspian's face, hearing his voice, so she opened them, not able to handle that. "Now, as for the gryphons, how many of them know how to fight?"

"Princess Susan?" Glenstorm tried to interrupt, to question.

Slicing the air with her hand, Susan looked at him coldly, "Answer the question."

"All of them I suppose, but they're not suited to the sort of fighting that generally takes place," staring at her oddly.

She would help him, and they would help her help him. Caspian was the only one who knew what to do in the leading of this army, she didn't, she was just middle class Susan Pevensie, reluctant mistress to a Prince who was more suited to piracy and violence than this. So Susan would get back her bandit prince, and go back to her place, but that meant she had to become someone else. Now Susan had to be every inch the bandit princess, cunning, efficient, hard, and cold. And angry of course, but that was mostly little Susie mad that someone had taken away something she was used to, had forced a change she wasn't ready for, and had finally lost her temper over it all. Too much change, too little time, and too strange of a place with no points of reference.

And the Telmarine Lords would find out just what happened when they got on her bad side.

Plans formulated rapidly behind those icy blue eyes, incomprehensible to her assistants. But that didn't matter, all that did, was getting Caspian back - one way or another.

XXXXX

Susan was looking over Genkin's work, "Good, it will fit me then?"

"Of course Su, but," Genkin shuffled, "but this isn't wise."

Shrugging, "War isn't wise Genkin. And a leader who enters into a war with another is the height of imbecilic. So, wisdom? There is none in this world at the moment."

"Oh Rosetta is going to have me by my short-hairs if she finds out," running his hands over his shaggy brown hair.

"Then it's best she doesn't find out then," picking up the thick leather jerkin comprised of three layers - butter-soft leather for over her shirt, chainmail that was padded with wool, and another thick outside of leather, tough and flexible. All of it was riveted together for even more durability. It would be a bit stiff, but it left her arms free for archery. Not only that, but it bore the Narnia-Telmar crest emblazoned over the left breast. "Excellent, excellent... Good work Genkin. Thank you," draping the piece of armour over her arm, Susan left.

No one paid her any mind, seeing Susan with armour to work on or polish was not too odd of a sight, and she counted on that. If Glenstorm caught wind of what she was planning, then there'd be hell to pay. But she was bound and determined, and would not be stopped, and Susan Pevensie, once she got an idea in her head, a goal to aim for - she was like nature - a force to be reckoned with. She had delegated, taken advice given, and acted somewhat normal. Caspian had been missing for several days, and according to her scouts, her spies - the troop movements had been unprepossessing, absolutely normal. And that reeked of something, it raised the hair on the back of her neck. Three days, three days and soon winter would be there. No more than a week until snowfall. So, goal in mind, demands laid on the table, and people slowly preparing quietly, none knowing what their parts were but Susan, and she didn't feel powerful.

Susan was scared out of her mind, terrified, she needed Caspian to take care of all this, because she was little more than a figurehead in many ways. A reason to give heart to the Narnians, but behind those chilly blue eyes of frozen skies, Susan was unrelenting in carrying this out. Caspian would be found, and he would be brought back - no matter his condition. Clenching her jaw, she vowed, alive or... dead... Caspian would come back to the How. Even if she had to tear down heaven and earth, even if she had to call down the sky, even if she had to raze everything in her way to the ground and grind it into so much dust - he would be returned. Because she had made the decision to help him, to do whatever necessary - and never, ever, would she back down. Let Miraz come, let winter fall - let any problems arise - and she would _crush_ them.

No shrinking violet, and Susan didn't bother asking anymore where this strength came from - if she ever had. Nor did she even notice the change that had been spreading through her over the past months, she just had gone about and done what was needed as she saw it. Living for others was what she always had done, so it had seemed a simple extension of her personality to do this. To have these cogs turning faster and faster in her mind, to ignore the needs of her body and soul in favour of everyone else's. Much as Caspian had done, though his was obvious in other ways. His mad grab for power was fueled by other things she'd found out, not just loss of his throne, but the loss of his people.

Entering her room, Susan had to take a deep breath, letting the mask drop for a second, and she sank to her knees. Susan's last words to Caspian had been cross, and that hurt. And for all the spine made of steel she wore outside this room, and for all the plans she had flickering like a movie-reel in her head, Susan was still a girl somewhere deep inside, and needed the routine of Caspian more than she'd ever realized. And she'd thought it'd been bad when he was avoiding her. This was a nightmare, the supports having been pulled from beneath her, and Susan would do anything to get that back. Somehow she got to her trunk of clothes, opening it, riffling in the side she'd set aside for Caspian's spares, lifting a dirty shirt she'd had yet to wash to her nose. Inhaling deeply, rubbing her cheek on it - why did she need him so badly? Why was he the foundation she built her day on? Why was it him that made her almost forget Finchley?

Hugging it to her chest, Susan closed her eyes, trying to remember the way the shirt would fill out over Caspian's deep chest. So few days he'd been gone, and if he had not been hurt? If the trap had not fallen on him - would it hurt this much with him gone? Shivering, Susan tried to steady her breathing. Now was not the time for weakness, not until he was safe once more. Then she could be weak, then she'd ask him for a little bit of what she'd done her best to disregard so often. Maybe a kiss, maybe she'd ask for him to hold her hand, or maybe for him to just allow her to watch as he carved something. Pressing her lips to the collar, Susan folded it back up, saving it for tonight, she'd sleep in it as she had the last few days, enveloped in his scent.

No longer could she deny that there was something more to their relationship than simple possessor and possession. Not with Glenstorm's words, not with the way everyone looked at her, and it all made sense now. Why the Herds had come down from their mountain valleys, why more minotaurs had filed into the ranks, why centaurs had come in droves, and why more supplies were pouring in from fringe villages filling the larders. Caspian was married to someone the Narnians felt was Narnian at heart. And what was Narnian anyway? Was it those mythical creatures she walked past, or was it something more... ambiguous? A temperament seemed to be the general consensus. And now with a Narnian-Telmarine heir, who was wedded (at least by common law) to a Narnian - well that had changed things. So no longer did Susan have a reason to fight facing that new aspect of her bond with Caspian.

Placing her palms on the edge of the trunk, Susan got up with some difficulty. Taking a slow breath, then her fingers went to the ties of her dress, unlacing them enough to shirk the material quickly. The corset came next, and with a flash Susan recalled Caspian's sensual touches as he cinched her in whenever he was around to help. His lips would always be so silky, or his cheek so rough when it was pressed to the nape of her neck. Shivering, Susan continued, if she wanted any chance of him doing that again, she had to find him. Corset falling from her hand, Susan kicked free of the double petticoat she wore for warmth, and then the shift was tossed away too.

Not thinking, Susan, nude gave a little twitch, and dug for some of the clothes she'd nabbed from the stores that the troops had seized in their raids on Telmarine camps, and taken from the dead Telmarine's as well. Caspian was as practical as she in his own way - why let the dead keep something that could be used elsewhere by the living? Silk leggings, wool leggings, and then leather. When she'd asked Genkin why some of the Telmarine's wore silk under the wool, he said it was so that if any injuries happened, that it made pulling out any pieces of clothing free of the wound easier. Of course only the wealthy Lords and their sons could afford such things.

Caspian of course never seemed to wear more than leather trews, always thick and double layered no matter the heat. Closing her eyes Susan couldn't let herself remember how he looked as he peeled the animal skins from his own, of how tawny his flesh was, at how beautiful it was despite the scars or because of them. Mechanically Susan pulled on the layers, testing their fit, then next came a heavy raw silk binding for her full breasts that she wrapped around her chest several times taking it as tight as she could. Another layer of silk, thick and billowing sleeves like Caspian's tunics, but not worn out linen like his, cream coloured, and that was drawn over her head. Determination settled around her shoulders, just as her jerkin did. With winding long strips of more silk from just above her wrist to just below her elbow, keeping the wide sleeves close so they wouldn't be in the way, then thin leather vambraces, really there more for tendon support than protection. Wide belt going around her waist, providing support of the heavy jerkin, then over her shoulder, relieving and redistributing all of weight, and Susan looked more boy than woman but for her hair.

It took a monumental bit of willpower to tug her hair free - just as it did each time she'd done this the last few days - of the pieces of artwork Caspian had so carefully crafted for her. Caressing the wood, then kissing each pin, Susan put them in their bag. Quick fingers replaited her hair, in a thick braid almost as broad as her wrist. Tying it off, Susan let it swing between her shoulder blades, and then finally... Snapping the cloth as she swirled it around her shoulders, Caspian's cloak, the one he'd first lent her, tattered and overworn from her constant cuddling with it at night, settled around her. Last but not least, boots, completed everything. Hopefully she looked the part of a Lords' son who'd defected, and not like some girl playing dress up in her big brother's clothes.

Everything was comfortable at least, and Susan went through a series of stretches trying to accustom her body to the weight and difference to what she was used to. Things were a bit stiff at the joints, maybe she'd not wear the wool leggings, out there. Afterall this was a lot of trouble for a one time wear. So Susan decided next time she put these on, she'd just shuck that layer as unnecessary. Unless of course it was snowing, then she may change her mind.

A knock, "Su?" Rosetta then entered, a tray of food in her hands, then stopped mouth agape, "Dear, what are you doing dressed like that?"

Straightening up from touching her toes, "I am stretching. Obviously."

"Su, you know what I meant - why are you wearing... men's clothes?"

"They're comfortable," shrugging as she poured a wooden cup full of spiced tea.

Her friend drew out the second chair - Caspian's chair usually - and sat, "And I thought you were comfortable in dresses. Do women wear breeches often in your homeland?"

Shaking her head, Susan sipped her tea, then made a face, adding a dollop of honey and milk, "No, just when they work in factories."

Grains of sand trickled, light burned, as time passed in quietude, but for the sounds of eating as Rosetta and Susan helped themselves to the bread and meat on the platter. Susan would never have been able to finish it by herself - a few of the fauns and satyrs thought the best way to cheer their 'Princess' was to try and stuff her full of food.

"You never speak of that place, not really," it was statement and prompting.

"No use wishing for a place that may never have been real, or if it is, it's no place here. I may be dead I think sometimes, but most times," tucking some of the food to the side of her cheek, speaking when not done chewing (something she would have to reprimand Lucy for all the time, yet here she was doing it herself - when had she forgotten that?), "I don't think of it at all. Why speak of something that is not here and now, or future? No, Rosetta I will not say more. It is not something I wish to think on. It is done with for whatever reason."

Again that thick air was filled with nothing but breathing, chewing, and swallowing.

"And it is passing strange that you are so comfortable in that armour," but Susan ignored the statement's underlying meaning.

"It is merely for show Rosetta, I will not quit my practicing, nor will I hide away inside the How, for I still must have fresh air. Luis and I shall continue to go for rides," shrugging.

"He has quite a fine battle saddle I saw the other day," another careful probe.

"I find it easier to ride with that than without," sipping more tea.

Rosetta was staring at her, but Susan barely registered the weight of the dwarf's gaze, "What are you planning?"

"The same thing I'm always planning Rosetta, intrigue, mischief, and the like," leaning back in her chair. "And how best to annoy those in charge. I like doing that."

Her voice was cool, always cool now, much like her bearing, she'd gone from warm royalty to this cold creature, and Susan would stay that way until she had Caspian back. For she would have him back. Just let anyone try and stop her.

"Those plans wouldn't include going out on patrol, would they?" worried and suspicious.

"On patrol?" here Susan did laugh, "That's preposterous! I'm not suited to something like that at all Rosetta, you should know me better than that."

"I don't think so Su, you're not you anymore since word of his death came," Rosetta looked greatly saddened. "But you need to move on now, you've got work to do, people to care for. You'll be Queen when we overthrow Miraz. And to do that, we need you whole, we need you not to be riding off on some harebrained patrol."

"Ever stop to think that I'm not cut out for being Queen, or that I'd even want something like that Rosetta?" leaning forward, chin in her hand, elbow on the table. "And he isn't dead Rosetta, he can't be. He's the only hope this army has of staying ruthless enough to do what needs to be done come spring, he's the only one fast enough on his feet and who knows the land as well as he does. Do not pin your dreams on me Rosetta, I'm not fit to carry them, nor will I try. I will only do what has to be done that's in front of me. Now," rising, putting her plates on her tray, "thankyou for lunch, but it's time for Luis and I to go ride some. One of the Birds will take messages to me if there's something so pressing as to need my attention."

Rosetta was obviously hurt by the dismissal, but Susan did have things to do. And she wondered all the while why she hadn't heard from Glyrrill - it'd been five days since that mission had started, for now it was more important than ever that time be bought at any cost for the army.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Luis was swift upon his feet, and quiet as a soft breeze with his burlap covered hooves. A beat upon the air heralded a Hawk's approach.

"Everything is in position Your Highness," it was a quiet series of chirps, meant to only carry far enough for her to hear them.

"Thankyou Greybreast," inclining her head, "now Neetasqueak is absolutely sure that he's there?"

"Yes," Greybreast bobbed her head up and down, stepping from foot to foot on the branch, long familiar with the question.

"Good... good... now, about the music - it will work?"

"Yes," and this time it was Luis who was reassuring her, "it will Su, so long as we are not too noisy. Please, we must hurry if this is your plan."

"Yes, there is ice upon the wind, we will not have long to get far after this," ruffling her feathers, Greybreast looked worried.

They were all unsure of this plan, in fact _Susan _was unsure of it. She had no actual experience in this - and look how her plan for Lord Sopesbian had turned out, no news at all for eight days, and probably she had lost at least six of her most loyal people. But this was her lone ace in the hole, an all or nothing gamble. In the end she had been able to hide her intentions from Glenstorm and even Morningdew until she was setting out. They'd followed, managing to catch up to Susan and had demanded to know what was going on. Susan told them that she had found Caspian, and that they needed to stay behind and hold the fort. Of course they'd tried to dissuade her - but then Susan had pulled rank, something that she'd never done before, and wielded it like a weapon, ordering them to retreat now. Morningdew had looked at her, hurt for the misdirection most likely, but understanding Susan's reasons better than she did herself.

Now Susan waited for the strains of music to waft through the air. It started out slow, almost imperceptible. She'd felt five pipers weaving their magic was sufficient for this endeavor, though this was a rather significant force waiting on their doorstep. If all went well, Susan planned on having every fifth soldier removed. Forcibly, swiftly, violently, and deadly removal. Grilf, with a force of fifty minotaurs, fifty dwarves, and twenty-five satyrs waited, all the while two wings of gryphons circled, keeping watch.

After a good candlemark of the music, Susan gave the signal to Greybreast, who took wing, flying to Grilf telling him it was time. Behind her, Horses came like ghosts, forming up covered in packs - for this was also to be a raid. Three birds - one stone.

Retrieve Caspian, diminish Miraz's army in such a way as to spook them, and gain more supplies. Supplies, always supplies, but none of that mattered right now - Susan simply waited upon baited breath. As bloody work started in unearthly silence, Susan then dismounted from Luis, his reins tossed over the saddle-horn, and he followed. It was time.

Unslung bow, arrow knocked, Susan crept through the tents and bed rolls, making her way on booted feet to where she'd been told Caspian would be. A sentry, not quite asleep from the music started to jerk awake - and then he jerked once more - bright sanguine feathers growing from his throat. Susan almost stopped, almost lost her nerve at that - she'd never actually killed someone. Not really. No time though, not for such things. Another arrow replaced her used one, and onwards she went. Sentries were shot quickly for the simple reason that she didn't want any risk of alarm raised. Each arrow was retrieved but for the first, Susan just had to think of them like the tree she would shoot. Or an apple from a tree, or a target - that's all they could be right now. When Caspian was safe and sound - then she would let herself remember what she had done. But not until then.

The sounds around her changed from the soft grunts and whispers of cloven feet on the ground to the jangle of harnesses and bags being filled. Content that things were going fairly smoothly, Susan found Caspian's tent. Flipping the flap up, Susan had to turn away for fear of emptying her stomach. Catching her breath for a moment, Susan slipped in keeping her mind still and empty. That's what she had to do, because otherwise she'd start screaming in rage at what she saw before her.

Bound bent backwards so his arms were pulled behind him, connecting his ankles to him, Caspian didn't really look human. She thought he was sleeping, hoped he was, but as she got closer to him, he twitched, head jerking towards her and Susan saw how swollen his face was. Sucking in a deep breath of air, Susan bit her fist to stay in control - it barely worked.

Caspian spit a bit, "Inigo - you fool, you came back for another beating?"

"Caspian," whispering as she knelt by him.

He stiffened, head whipping this way and that, though he was blinded by how battered his face was, "What is this? Some new torture?"

"Don't be stupid Caspian, hush, I'm here to get you out," Susan wasn't sure where to touch him. Several large circular burns were on him, one on his inner left thigh, one on his stomach, and one on his shoulder, near the heavy pink of his mostly healed puncture, "Don't fight me please, I have to cut you free."

"Who are you...?" voice thick and suspicious, frightened, "What game is this?" Opening his mouth to yell, "IN-"

Clamping a hand over his mouth, "Caspian, please you must be quiet. The magic won't last through a loud noise!" frantically, Susan kissed his face, praying she wasn't hurting him too much, "Please Caspian, please, you must be quiet. It's Susan, I'm here, okay? I'm here, and we're going to get you away from this place. Just... just cooperate with me, okay? _Please_?"

"S-su-sa-an?" starting to shake, disbelief making him stutter.

"Yes, Caspian it's me," kissing his cracked lips, "and I'm a bit peeved with you, you know. You knew the whole time why the kept calling me 'Princess' - you never even proposed! Hmph, we'll have words on that later..."

"Susan, is it truly you? You have to get away from here, why are you here? Please, leave, flee, take the army and go, go to Archenland, go to anywhere.. anywhere... Please save yourself..." choking.

Startled a bit by his urgings, Susan shook her head, though he couldn't see the gesture, "Not without you Caspian. Hush now, let me help you."

She glanced around and spied what looked like his gear, or at least what was left of it, including his weapons. Sighing in relief she grabbed them, then started sawing at his bonds.

"You are truly not an apparition?" Susan wasn't sure if she'd ever heard him sound so frightened, so hopeful, not like this, before.

"No I'm not, now," Caspian let out a grunt of pain when she tugged a bit too hard, "I'm sorry!"

"It is nothing," going stoic, gritting his teeth.

The rope finally parted, and Caspian barely made a sound, though it was obvious he had to be in agony. Unclasping her cloak, Susan draped it over him, "Okay, I'm going to get Grilf, I can't pick you up."

His hand came out, grasping her wrist like a vise, "Do not let them see me like this."

"Caspian... oh..." touching his cheek softly, "someone has to help me with you. I can't do it by myself."

"I can walk," though she didn't know how he could say something like that. "Just help me to my feet, then I can dress."

Luis' noise poked in, "Your Highness, there is little time, the satyrs are tiring."

Thinking quickly, Susan motioned for Luis to lay down, "Can you kneel for me please Luis?"

"Of course Your Highness," the honourific Susan suspected was because of Caspian's presence, a formality so that Caspian didn't think him too familiar with his wife.

The Horse was just outside the tent, and somehow she managed to help Caspian to Luis who was knelt so that Caspian could try to mount. It was readily apparent he was in no condition, yet Susan knew Caspian would refuse anything else. Sighing, she ducked back inside, grabbing Caspian's things.

"Princess, I can carry both of you if need be," Luis wuffled.

She would have said no, but Caspian looked so shaky, then nodded, "Alright, don't get up yet, I have to hand this off to Grilf."

A nod, as Luis stayed there, patiently.

Finding him quickly, "Grilf?"

"Princess - you found him?"

"Yes, I did, he's hurt, here - take these, I have to ride behind Caspian and can't carry these," shoving the near ruined possessions into his hands, but Susan knew how strange Caspian was about his things, and wouldn't leave them behind unless she had to.

"Wait," Grilf fumbled, taking off his cloak, and passing it to her, "wrap this about both of you as you ride. And ride straight back to the How. We will cover your tracks. The gryphons will be your guard."

Looking at Grilf seriously, measuring, "You just get then men out of here. And yourself too. No heroics. You hear me? Besides you carry his sword, and Caspian gets right miffed about that."

Grilf ducked his head, "Yes Your Highness. Upon my honour it shall all be well. Now go."

Nodding and racing back to Luis, Susan climbed over his rump, draping the cloak about herself then drew it further over Caspian, "Alright Luis, let's ride."

With a lurch Luis rose, and Susan scooted higher so that Caspian was held in the circle of her arms. Caspian swayed, grunting softly, but made no other complaint. Luis was exhausted from the hard push of riding, and Susan had clung to the back of another Horse every few hours to spare Luis some of the burden, trying to save his strength for this. Because now time wasn't just of the essence, now Susan had to get Caspian to help, to medical attention. It hadn't been easy putting this together, and it hadn't been easy finding Caspian, for getting the Mice spies into position had been hell. Finally she had settled on having gryphons carrying baskets with two Cats and a few Mice to be dropped off near known camps, and then have the Mice ride the Cats (which had been an absolute test of all involved's patience, pride and resolve) to their destinations. Now he was in her arms, and they had a good four hours to get to a place where they could rest for an hour or two.

But that may kill Caspian, he really didn't look good.

As though he sensed her thoughts, "Strap me to a fresh Horse."

"What?"

"If you insist on risking yourself," his voice little more than a croak, "we must make good time. We are are too far out. Or have a gryphon carry me, bundled up in this cloak I shall be fine."

"Your Highness, not to insult you m'Lord, but you are daft," Luis snorted. Continuing, "Her Highness has gone to too much trouble to put this together for you to waste her efforts. Princess - I will go until I drop if necessary. I have pledged you my honour and loyalty to the ends of my life. And I will maintain any pace necessary to see you both to safety," with that little bit of warning, Susan gripped Caspian more securely, the Horse moving into a ground eating lope. Caspian huddled into her arms, keeping a firm grip on the saddle-horn despite how injured he was. Unable to help herself, Susan leaned into him, burying her nose in his neck, still managing to have her mind stay blank. He only sighed, a small twitch through his muscles at the softness of the touch.

It was enough for now.


	14. Chapter 14

Susan wanted to fall off of Luis, she was tired, very tired. And Caspian was only staying on by stint of will alone. What was worse, was how lathered Luis was, and the fact that snow had started less than an hour after the trio had left the enemy camp. Now it was three hours into their drive back to the How, and they'd have another day of hard travel if they could maintain this pace. But Susan wouldn't do that to Luis. Couldn't do that. He was her friend, and had probably been the one person she'd depended on for comfort the most since Caspian had left to go on patrol. Before it all went so wrong. It was like he was just hers, he had no responsibilities or goals other than just being by her side. Which was something that was not only refreshing, but gave her something that no one else could - unconditional friendship and love.

"Luis," tugging lightly on the reins.

"Yes. Su-san?" he wasn't panting - not quite. But speech was hard for him when he was this tired.

"We should stop for a bit," though no they shouldn't, not when there were still patrols from that camp out and about, there was no way Susan could account for everything, she knew that. Caspian and Luis needed a few minutes though, or Luis would founder, and Caspian would worsen his injuries even more than they were already.

In response Luis slowed but didn't stop, "I will slow some, that will provide sufficient rest."

"Good Horse," surprising Susan, she'd thought Caspian asleep, "I would not be the source for your injury. The Lady Susan would be quite irritated with me if such were to happen."

Tossing his head, Luis' eye rolled back to look at them as his head twisted to them, "And it is not very far till a relatively safe place. Then I shall rest for an hour, and you both shall eat."

"As you say, Good Horse, but please keep in mind not all of us are as noble as you," Caspian's hand flailed a bit, trying to pat the lovely arched neck.

A feather could have knocked Susan over, she'd never realized that Caspian had the capability for such politeness. Then again, considering the fact that he had such an extensive army and supplies meant that he had to have had a silver tongue to get any of it. Giving him a tiny squeeze, Susan went back to concentrating on not falling from Luis' back. Oh god how she wanted to bathe his wounds, to kiss him all over, to salve his burns. Susan had to fight that with each of Luis' sure steps. To feel Caspian hard and between her thighs as she straddled him, rocking over him gently so she could be sure he was there really there.

She almost lost him too many times, and no more would she hide that fear from him or herself - she'd let him know when it was time. Biting her lip, Susan tucked her cloak further around his legs, trying to protect him better, and not so she could feel him closer to her. Another surprise, Caspian tipped his head to the side and back so his cheek touched her forehead, rubbing for a moment before hanging his face once more in fatigue.

XXXXXXXX

Finally they stopped, and much farther along than planned - they were at a small scout camp. Luis was drooping, his legs splayed, head hanging between his them, but the Horse made no complaint. With great difficulty, Susan dismounted, and with the help of a minotaur (Caspian didn't protest the assistance for fear of ruining what little dignity he had left) managed to get Caspian down without mishap. Mulled wine was thrust into Susan's hands, and blankets bundled about Caspian when they seated him by a small fire. A satyr was tending to Luis, and Susan gave the Horse a few hugs, a kiss to his brow, then with little urging went to care for Caspian.

Susan was on the verge of dropping, but Caspian had to have his wounds tended or they may fester. A small pack of medical supplies had been passed to her along with the large mug of mulled wine, and Susan took it over to Caspian. There was a certain pride in his bearing that was both heartwarming and -rending. He sat there, blankets a tent around his shoulders, head held like he was staring into the fire - a fire he couldn't see through his heavily beaten face. She couldn't even comprehend the sort of strength it took to appear that collected, as though none of this was happening, as though this were just any other day.

Licking her lips, Susan knelt near him, "Caspian?"

"Yes?" turning as though to catch sight of her face.

"I need to see to your wounds," knowing that in his current state it was unlikely he'd let anyone see to him other than her, for these weren't battle injuries but ones born of torture and captivity - not something to bear with pride, but something to hide. Because it meant his power was taken from him. Susan understood him that well at least. "If you'll allow it that is," giving him the choice, instinctively aware that restoring his sense of control was as important as treating the outside hurts.

"Of course Susan, but - not right here," he sounded uncertain which was strange, and it struck Susan just how much he revealed himself to her, and how often. She was probably the only person who'd ever seen that side of Caspian. And lived.

"Not a problem, but first, would you like some wine? It's hot," holding it near his left hand for it seemed the least damaged.

Caspian took it, his grip shaky, but holding, and sipped it a few times, but Susan could see how difficult it was, but didn't ask for it back. Shuffling through the pack, Susan wasn't too sure what to do with the little tin with stitching thread, but it should be fairly self-explanatory. Opening a small jar, the scent pungent and she figured the unguent was to promote healing. Setting that aside, she found gauze, thin fine linen in strips, that she knew what to do with, but the packets of herbs and such - Susan wondered if she was supposed to be helping Caspian or making him into a roast with it all.

"You may have some too," causing Susan to jerk her head up, where Caspian was holding out the mug.

"Thankyou," taking it back, and when it was obvious he was waiting to hear that she'd drank some, she made sure to slurp some noisily.

He seemed vaguely pleased, his shoulders slumping as he relaxed.

Scooting a bit closer to him, "When would be convenient for you to let me see what needs to be done?" Trying to reassure him in a way that wasn't obvious, "I'm a bit cold, so when you like though, could we go into the tent? There's one set aside for us just a bit behind you."

Caspian only nodded, then started to get up with some difficulty, and Susan was there at his side, relief washing through her when Caspian draped his arm over her willingly, allowing the assistance. Signs that this tent was reserved for other occupants were strewn across the small space, but even so it was exactly what the doctor ordered. Laying him down, muscles straining against his weight, Susan fought exhaustion a while longer. It didn't take long, most of what Caspian seemed to need was food, rest, and splints - his right wrist didn't seem to be broken, not really, probably a hairline fracture - for the most part. The burns concerned her, but Caspian merely gestured to the various little pots and powders, sniffing them then telling her which to apply, not even reacting to any pain. That worried her too, because Susan didn't know what that could mean - permanent damage? Or maybe just Caspian being tough, or possibly too much having happened and being unable to respond to the stimuli.

"If you like we can sleep for a while, I'd planned a stop around here, and I'm sure the two wings above us could use a nap too. If you think that's acceptable," fingers twisting in the hem of his blanket, wanting to just wrap him up in her arms, to protect him. Caspian should never have to look so weak, so vulnerable.

"You will stay with me?" it sounded like Caspian was trying to order her to do so, but couldn't muster anything more than what the man inside wanted - to beg her to do just that.

"If you like, I'd love to," whispering, fearing that she would start bawling any minute.

He was full of surprises, "Susan?"

"Yes?" trying to get comfortable on the hard ground, curling into a ball beneath her cloak.

Caspian's mouth worked for a moment, opening and closing, then, "Would you please hold my hand?"

Tears started to flow silently at that, and Susan scooted close to him, taking his hand between hers, raising it to her mouth, kissing each finger, his palm, the back of it, his wrist, all over brushing her lips everywhere. Stroking his forearm, keeping a hold of his hand, pressing it to her face, containing her sobs of relief, Susan just watched Caspian. How bad must it have been for him to ask her for something that could show how scared he'd been? His thumb moved over her cheek, brushing the tears as he made little noises.

"This is no dream?" it was tiny and weak, scared disbelief, hopeful awe.

"No, no it's not Caspian, I'm here," leaning forward enough to brush his bruised chin.

Ducking his face, his mouth sought hers, split lip scratching hers, but it was as though he couldn't care right then. And neither did she, Susan just had to let him know that he was safe. Moaning opening her mouth, Susan let him taste her as much as he wanted. She should have let him have a proper kiss before he left, what if she hadn't found him? No, no never again would she lose her temper at him before he went anywhere. The mere thought of her last feelings and words towards him being harsh was unbearable. Without thought, Susan had rolled him to his back, straddling his hips, kissing Caspian like there was no tomorrow, and Caspian held her just as tight, making low sounds, needy little whimpers.

Breaking apart, Susan yanked off her boots, then her pants and leggings as fast as she could. Naked, that's what she needed to be, she had to feel Caspian against her - more than anything right now, otherwise she'd start screaming. It was the stress, the fear, the anger, the pain all coming out into this desperation, jerkily removing her clothes. Caspian lay there, panting, battered and in pain, and all Susan could think was that he was beautiful and that she couldn't lose him - not ever again.

[REDACTED TO BE FFN POLICY COMPLIANT. The full chapter is on AO3.]

Never had she broken down this bad, it was all too much but there was no time, they had at most another hour or two of rest before they needed to continue onto the How. Without a doubt there would be pursuit from the Telmarines attempting to reclaim their captive. Susan couldn't let that happen, not ever again. Sighing Susan started to withdraw from Caspian, bu he rolled over onto his side, clasping her and threading a leg between hers, locking their bodies together.

"Caspian - careful you'll hurt yourself," whispering, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"I hurt enough already, a bit more means nothing," even as Caspian tugged her even closer.

Stroking his shoulder and bicep, "You're hurt pretty badly -"

"No, not really, Inigo was going easy on me, only toying with me, this is nothing," Caspian's voice got a little stronger, "A handful of burns, a beating or two, a few fractures? This, honestly Susan, is absolutely nothing. It looks worse than it is I am sure."

"It doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," nuzzling at him.

He 'humphed', then was quiet, his chest rising and falling steadily.

Susan was just starting to slip into a doze, "May I kiss you?"

That brought her back to wakefulness real quick. A second request, a second real request - one that wasn't veiled in an order. It scared her, because that wasn't like her Caspian at all, it was more like the one she still dreamed of occasionally. But it had been awhile, almost since Nikabrik had died and Caspian had stuck close to her. The dream-Caspian had yet to make an appearance, but before her seemed something so much better - the real Caspian reaching out to her, even if this was the only time he'd do it. Heart shivering in her breast, Susan tilted her face up giving him permission with a tiny lick to his lips. It was all he seemed to need, but instead of the devouring she expected, Susan got a small huff, and butterfly kisses all over her face. His nose pressed into her temple and Caspian breathed deep, then his lips traveled a press here, an open mouthed kiss there. Susan hadn't thought Caspian capable of such tenderness and she melted beneath the care.

Caspian's breathing was ragged, then his forehead was pushed into her shoulder as he shuddered, "Too much. I am sorry I must - "

Susan nodded, knowing he could tell from how her cheek moved against his head, "Okay. Just.. relax. Rest for a bit longer, they'll wake us when it's time."

In the dark Susan held him just as tightly as he did her.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The healer had seen to Caspian and he was ensconced comfortably on he and Susan's bed. In his absence a short platform bed with leather straps spanning in criss-cross had replaced the pile of straw and blankets. It was absolute luxury, something that felt so good it was almost a worse torture than he'd already gone through. Furs and blankets were mounded up and around him, and he was actually quite thankful that his room was generally chilly, otherwise he feared he'd cook to death. He was still unable to see, the swelling came from his body's reaction to something he'd been fed or splashed with while in captivity, but while the healer had reassured him that he'd regain his sight, Caspian's sharp hearing had picked up a whispered conversation with Susan that ran contrary to what he'd been told. In the end it didn't matter, because Caspian was debating quite heavily withdrawing from this war, of just taking his army and up and moving to the Lone Islands. Their military was a joke but for their navy, and while true there would be little call generally for a standing military for such a small place - well Miraz wouldn't leave well enough alone.

Loosening his hold on the carving of Susan she would place in his hand whenever she had to leave, Caspian tried to let himself sleep. It was hard though, because he kept expecting a kick or a bucket of cold water to be tossed over him. Squeezing the wood, the points of it digging into his palm comforting Caspian. He was in the How, he was in a soft comfortable bed, and Susan's scent enveloped him. Swallowing Caspian knew even less what to do about that situation. With a shudder his mind tried to wrap around the fact that he was in love with Susan. It was simply unnatural. Love made one a lunatic, irrational, and easy to manipulate. Though it certainly explained his actions of the last six months regarding Susan, and even the near miss of breaking his honour (it was his upbringing making a last ditch effort to save him this idiocy) could be laid at the feet of 'love'.

Swishing fabric heralded the object of those affections arrival and the clink of a tray. Smells assaulted his nose - beef and potatoes, and was that - garlic? Oh he hadn't had garlic in what felt centuries (it was generally saved for the wounded - because it promoted good bloodflow and banished the evil humours of sickness). Mouth salivating Caspian dragged himself to a seated position.

"Are you hungry?" Susan was solicitous of his needs and desires in such a way that Caspian always had a choice.

It was odd, yet it was a bit of solace for him, because he was aware of how much she was trying to give him a sense of control. Caspian was absurdly grateful for it.

"Yes," trying not to sound too desperate. Three days of the most tender care a man could ever hope for, and Caspian found it hard to fight against the urge to make more requests of Susan - for each time he did, her response was outside the bounds of his understanding. It quite frightened him, yet it felt so good, "Would you sit by me while I eat?"

"Of course," Susan's voice warmed, and soft steps on the stone floor, then creaking from the bedframe as she scooted into position. A tray was placed on his knees that he held securely until she was comfortable. "All done, thank you Caspian," a kiss pressed to his cheek along with a stroke over his chin.

"You are welcome," whispering, leaning into the caress.

Although it was a bit of a trial to feed himself without the use of his eyes, Caspian managed with little mishap, the stew was thick and hearty, filling his stomach with warmth. Of course much of it had to do with Susan's presence, her shoulder pressed to his arm as she too ate. Between the two of them they shared a single cup, filled with some spiced tea - Caspian was becoming fond of the way she liked it, sweetened with a bit of milk, while he'd always taken it black and strong before. Every now and again, Susan's fingers would trail over the back of his hand, to his wrist, as though she too needed reassurance of his presence. Among the many things he didn't understand was the extreme flip Susan had made since her initial capture, but she had become a balm that he required.

And the headaches were gone completely ever since he'd put name to what he felt for her. But Caspian still had to keep in mind that he couldn't just give into all that, despite how easy it was becoming, for he had too many things to think on. Not the least of which was what to do now, how could he lead when he was bedridden? Or if he never got his vision back, how could the troops follow him? The idea that Susan lead as a figurehead was gone now, because that was only if he had died, it was an absolute worst case scenario. Since he was back now, Caspian knew he had to do something, just not what.

"Caspian, I was wondering something," her voice broke his troubled thoughts.

"And?"

"How badly do you think Miraz would be crippled if one of his Lords was assassinated, one of the ones that he depend on heavily in the Council?"

Raising an eyebrow though it was uncomfortable for the muscles to pull, "It would depend on the Lord. And who the blame fell upon. If it could be laid at our feet, then it would be beneficial to Miraz. Otherwise - it depends. Why?"

Susan shifted around, fidgeting, "Well what about Sopesbian? And if it looked like.. Miraz ordered it?"

"I would sincerely like to see that happen," laughing, "and good luck to that plan. He is protected almost as well as Miraz himself."

Clearing of a throat, then, "Well... what if I told you it was already done?"

"...What do you mean?" Caspian's voice lowered to a dangerous level, his mood traveling south rapidly. These weren't thoughts a woman should be having anyway, and while Susan had proved capable of pulling off a daring plan - he knew that was mostly luck, not planning. Such things could never be counted on - especially if a woman led it.

"Well ah... a bit ago there was a team that went out to do just that -"

"What?" snarling at her.

" - and they were successful, and only one casualty happened - a gryphon, but it worked, Sopesbian's dead and - " Susan was trying to complete the report in a rush.

"Who ordered this?"

"...I did..."

Caspian went still at that. His shoulders were tense, how was he supposed to respond to this? Anger seemed the expedient thing, and it was on the tip of his tongue but Susan interrupted.

"Before you start yelling, tell me - will it buy us time? Will it tie Miraz's hands some? Slow him down? Because the reports coming in indicate that there was a shockwave, but not its extent. Glenstorm needs to know so he can prepare accordingly."

Stalling, Caspian drank some more tea, and ate a few more bites of food. Yes, it would probably purchase a much needed respite. But the loss of him as a prisoner would probably negate the advantage of Sopesbian's death. Taking a deep breath Caspian mulled over the situation. Sopesbian dead meant Inigo would take over, and if there was some indication that the murder had been under Miraz's orders - Caspian couldn't conceive of Inigo then backing Miraz fully. The complication of Inigo being in love though - that was something Miraz could hold over his one time companion, using whatever girl Inigo desired as leverage. Sucking air between his teeth, Caspian whistled a bit, it was all up in the air and could go either way. Either time was bought, or things would stay the same. It boiled down to this: if Inigo was easily swayed, the assassination would have done nothing to slacken Miraz's hold on the Council, which left the Narnians in the same position. Or - it worked, and Inigo would be reluctant, at least somewhat, in putting his House's support behind Miraz.

"It may or things may continue as they were - but I do not foresee a worsening of the situation overall," deflating. Caspian's anger was still there, but severely lessened with that realization. "Who planned it? Glenstorm or Morningdew?" unable to conceptualize that Susan had come up with the idea on her own, but it would make sense that the centaurs would run the plan by her seeking permission in his absence.

"Can we not talk about this? I just wanted to know if it would be beneficial, that's all," it was a tiny whisper, and Susan lay her head on his shoulder, arm curling around his waist.

Pushing the tray aside gingerly, Caspian turned his face, seeking a kiss, "If you wish it."

Because he wasn't ready to think of the possibility that Susan had come up with it on her own, had planned it, and had ordered it. That was a thought he'd never be ready for. Susan's lips parted beneath his willingly, her hand going into his hair, letting out a moan of desire. Caspian could freely admit that he loved the sounds she made when he touched her, and not for the first time wished she would ask him to pleasure her instead of merely accepting whatever he decided. Growling, turned more fully, his hand landing on a silk covered thigh. How he liked knowing that she wore the clothes he'd 'procured' for her, and this one was thick silk - it must be the red one. An image of Susan draped in that was more than his hormones could handle, and Susan found herself pinned beneath him. Caspian smiled into the kisses, enjoying the sensation of the smooth cloth on his chest.

Caspian couldn't contain a short hiss of pain when Susan's palm brushed over the burn in his shoulder, breaking some of the flow of their play.

Susan tried to pull away with a little sound of distress, "Caspian, I'm sorry, please here - let me -"

"Shh," pushing her deeper into the bed not allowing her to get away.

"At least let me put the tray somewhere safe," and while Caspian could tell Susan was changing her mind about letting him have sex with her right now, it was still a reasonable thing to worry over.

Letting her slip from his arms, Caspian hung his head a bit, arms braced on the bed, "Make it quick."

[REDACTED TO BE FFN POLICY COMPLIANT. The full chapter is on AO3.]

"Caspian, you're bleeding," again, Susan tried to wriggle free of him.

"So?" grasping her tighter, "It is nothing to worry over. Sleep with me."

"I...I have -"

Turning his face to 'look' at her, "Sleep with me anyway."

"Okay," and he could hear Susan taking off her shift and corset the rest of the way, "I should really do something about the bleeding though."

"Do not worry over it, it is nothing. Now - lay down," gesturing to his chest, wanting to feel her silky hair draping him.

Before she lay down, the covers were drawn up, then a cheek soft as a peach rubbed against his pectoral, and Caspian wrapped an arm around Susan's shoulders, keeping her pressed close. One of her legs scooted to lay over his good one, and the moisture of her sex, still


	15. Chapter 15

XXXXXXXXXXX

(Section 15)

Susan was in a dress once more, it almost felt odd to be wearing one around the How, and even with Caspian back she hadn't been wearing it while she tended to the various needs of filling Caspian's place for the duration. But now she was wearing one because she was leading Caspian to the command room for a meeting with Glenstorm (the centaur couldn't really fit into their room too easily - the door was too low to accommodate him) and Morningdew. He was feeling fairly sprightly (yet another word he'd probably never use for himself, but to Susan he positively was rambunctious at this point - he hated being cooped up) and had demanded to do something productive. So, clad 'properly', Susan was walking with him - their arms linked as though this were a normal stroll, but instead of him leading, it was her. To cover the fact that his eyes were still sealed shut - though now he was mostly just bruised in the face, no longer looking like a pumpkin - Susan had wrapped a black cloth about his eyes. Caspian seemed content with the arrangement.

Their pace was greatly reduced, because Caspian wasn't as sure-footed as usual, but he was the epitome of grace anyway, and to look at him one wouldn't believe that he had so many burns. It was the burns that scared Susan, for they were craters in the layers of skin, but they were healing well. His sight she felt sure would return eventually. She couldn't think of it as otherwise. They even paused to speak with several Narnians as though this was any normal walk before Caspian had been captured. The Narnians were in good spirits and all of them praised Aslan for the good fortune of having both their Prince and Princess safe.

Caspian's lips had came close to quirking at the enthusiastic rumbling of Jiroon as he leaned into Susan. The Cats - great hunting ones and smaller ones - had decided that receiving affectionate touches from their Princess was socially acceptable, despite their generally proud bearings. And it seemed to extend to Caspian though Jiroon was very reserved, but Caspian did gain a gentle nosing of his hand. Susan about fell over - though Caspian handled it well, hiding his surprise after a mild start.

"I am glad you are returned to us Your Highness," Jiroon rumbled. "If it is acceptable that I have said that, otherwise, my humblest of apologies."

Susan could feel Caspian's bicep tense as a wet nose touched his fingertips, "Your apologies are not necessary Sir Jiroon, and your sentiments are welcome. It is with pride that I am here to serve the Narnians, and it is well that I am back to assist in the reclaiming of your freedom." It came out sardonic, "As well as my throne. Of course."

"Of course Your Highness," a soft growl. "And it is also with pride that I and my line serve you and the Princess, thank you once more for your efforts and your sacrifices. It is always an honour to be in your presence as well."

Caspian inclined his head, "Likewise Sir Jiroon."

There was that silver tongue, that polite man that was unfamiliar to Susan. Now she was finally seeing more of the man who had negotiated for an army, and less her captor. Oddly touched by his dealings with the Narnians (for she'd never really seen him in action, mostly when they'd gone on walks before it was her who spoke with them and on trivial things hoping to brighten their days) and his easy acceptance of them. Jiroon padded closer to her, butting her hip with his huge head, and got a scratch to his chin for a few moments for his troubles. Overall he was her favorite Cat, but that's because he was the first she'd met. And he'd defended her, saved her life just as much as Caspian had in the Stone Table Room. Of course she'd returned the favour that very hour, distracting the hag before she could bury her knife in his glorious hide. That made her happy that Jiroon hadn't been too badly injured in her rescue.

"You'll tell me when you hear of how your mate's birthing goes?"

"With pleasure Your Highness," licking her palm.

Laughing a bit, "Just Su, Jiroon, you know that."

"As you wish Your Highness," mouth hanging open in a feline grin. It was something of a joke among the Narnians she was closest to.

The Tiger went back to work, transporting things back and forth through the How after a last 'Good day' to them.

"You care very much for them, do you not?"

Caspian's voice startled her, "Yes. Very much so."

"Good," nodding and Susan went back to guiding him to the command room.

Morningdew and Glenstorm were waiting, bent over maps on the table, examining brightly coloured dots that indicated their forces, the Telmarine troops, towns, camps, and the emergency fallbacks Susan had planned for. Not that Glenstorm knew that bit of information... She and Morningdew had been very careful to make it sound like it'd come from Caspian. Troop movements were _his_ purview, and Susan would never seek to take that responsibility from him, but at the same time there was no.. _convent_... method of talking him into such a thing.

Exchanging nods with Glenstorm after getting Caspian comfortable, then a hug with Morningdew (heartily missing their walks, but they were both so busy, so Luis was normally who she went with now) before drawing a chair up for herself.

"It is good to see you back in here Your Highness," Glenstorm's voice warm. Susan knew how troubled he'd been by Caspian's capture, and while the centaur had hidden it well enough, it'd come out according to Morningdew after Caspian had been returned safely.

"I keep hearing that, was everyone so lost without me?" leaning back, legs crossed.

"Yes we wandered around quite _blind_ without you to lead us," a little friendly dig.

Susan had never really witnessed their dynamic, but it was suddenly dawning that she'd never really been part of Caspian's life pertaining to the leading of this war. Now that she was party to it, Susan found this Caspian to be attractive in the extreme. It was as though he were more relaxed, settled into his natural environment. She'd never thought of the world outside of their private moments as being anything but where he was most at ease, but this proved her wrong - for Glenstorm and he started speaking of the various entrenched forces and contingency plans, amongst things for the spring campaign. Just sitting there absorbing it all, for she'd never been allowed to actually sit in on one of these brainstorm and reporting sessions, just found out the aftermath from extensive questions to both parties, Susan felt like she was watching some marvelous movie like the American film 'Fantasia.'

"Ah, so for spring, I had a thought," Caspian's chin was in his hand.

"Just one?"

"Ha-ha," snorting. "I expect to pull the troops back at the last minute when Miraz comes to bear. Though I will not make it easy for him, and I expect to grind his forces down. He will have to win decisively soon, or the Council will overthrow him. If or when that happens, we could easily sweep in and take control of the situation if pandemonium broke out. So my thoughts are this: we should have a few back up trenches already set up. Just incase he comes to us. Which he should."

Susan tensed at those words, becoming alert.

Glenstorm was looking at him oddly, "But... Caspian, you already issued those orders. There are numerous fallbacks, trenches, supply caches and plans for such things."

Caspian became very still, his face darkening, "I must have misheard you Glenstorm. You said I issued what orders?"

"To make the fallbacks - you sent word about it before you left on patrol..." Glenstorm's obvious perturbance was palpable.

As was Caspian's anger, "I put in no such orders..."

"But -"

"Where... did these... _suggestions_.. come from Glenstorm?"

The general looked to his wife, who stood straighter, "Morningdew? What could you tell me about this..?"

"Sorry," shrugging.

Wood creaked from the arms of Caspian's chair, his hands strangling them, grip white knuckled, "Moringdew - I do not believe you came up with such... treason on your own."

"It's not treason," Susan finally piped up.

"Where did the orders come from?" his voice low and deadly.

"Well, Caspian, I know you're not too fond of the idea -"

"_WHO ORDERED IT!_" roaring as he pushed himself to his feet.

Susan cleared her throat, "That would be ah.. me."

The response wasn't pleasant and Susan ducked the flying chair that Caspian threw. Blind the prince may be, but Caspian stalked around the room regardless of that fact. She'd never seen him so angry. Not like this, it wasn't the same kind as she was used to, it was more... something else. Susan wasn't sure what it was, but it was something else. Caspian bumped into a table, and then that too got thrown for merely being in his way.

"A woman's place does not allow for such things! A woman is to tend the homefire! A woman is supposed to rear the children - not have anything to do with such things!" yelling, and another chair went sailing overhead clattering on the floor.

Susan was huddled on the ground, even as Morningdew stepped up, standing over her for protection.

"Your Highness - please you must calm yourself! You're injuries - you'll worsen them!" Glenstorm tried to sound reasonable instead of distressed.

"Injuries - injuries? I shall show you injuries!" and Susan regretted the fact that Caspian always went about with his sword on his hip, for he had pulled it out, waving it around.

Alarmed, "Now see here Caspian! You put that down!"

Caspian froze, then swung in her direction, rage etching every line of his form, point leveled in her direction, "Put this down? No. It is a _man's_ place to bear weapons, a man's place to lead! You are a _woman_! A woman - and you should know your place by now you bitch! Have I not shown you this often enough?! I must not have!"

"You - you," sputtering, Susan rose, anger of her own welling up, "You did not just _dare_ to call me that! Fine," and if Caspian had any brain whatsoever he should have recognized the fact that he was in dangerous territory now, "fine, you unreasonable sack of shit. You worthless dog. Fine - you can have your temper tantrum like a pampered babe. The adults will make the necessary plans! Without you! No go you bedridden ass, you damned figurehead of a ruler!"

That must have struck home, because Caspian slumped, his sword point coming to rest upon the ground.

It was no matter though, for Susan had gone over to the large map table, and was bracing either hand on the lip, looking over the symbols, "Glenstorm - about Pylonus' band on the east front. They need to be rotated out to light duty for at least a week. None of them have had a full night's sleep I'm sure in months. We can't have that."

Glenstorm was quiet then nodded his agreement reluctantly, "Yes this is true. But they are some of our most seasoned soldiers -"

"Which is why we can't waste them Glenstorm, we need to put a few more irons in the fire, temper a few more captains and bands. Grilf's also been on the front line for too long as well. Have..." Susan thought for a moment trying to recall enough names of the qualified captains. Glancing at Moringdew, "Who do you suggest?"

There was a click from Caspian as he sheathed his sword, looking as dejected and useless as she'd ever seen him. But Susan wouldn't be moved, she was too upset. Truly it was Morningdew and Glenstorm who came up with the ideas, Susan was merely telling them that she approved of their intentions by having suggested the measures. It was how they had worked together thus far, Susan would infer what the two experienced leaders wanted to do from the subjects they broached, and then she'd voice their ideas as though they were her own, basically giving the go-ahead. Overall she thought it was a strange way to do things, but it worked.

A curse and Caspian tripped over one of the pieces of thrown furniture.

Finally Susan took pity on him, "Caspian what do you think of these measures? Do you approve?"

He waved a hand, back turned towards her, half bent over as though he couldn't stand up straight any longer, "Yes fine. They know what they are doing. Take me back to my room."

XXXXXXXXXXX

The cloak was heavy as was his clothes. Sensations were quite sharp when one had no sight. Snow was creaking underneath Susan's feet, and the saddle he was sitting on made little sounds too. Luis, Susan's Horse (and for a moment Caspian wished desperately that he were astride Destrier, but his loyal steed and friend was dead now - no use crying over spilt milk - though it did hurt) was quiet and if Caspian let his mind wander a bit, he could almost fool himself into thinking it was Destrier he was riding. But the gait was all wrong, something he may not have noticed if he'd had his vision. Another thing to not worry over for now, his mind was laden with them enough for right now. His irritation - well rage - at Susan's going over his head had cooled and he knew he shouldn't alienate her too much. Not when she was what comforted him in the night, not when it was her who made him not feel absolutely useless while in this state.

It was just... the fact that in his absence she'd been handling things the way she had, that it was her who'd come up with something useful. For the most part he was having the most difficulty with his handicap, and the abuse of his notions. But that had to be put aside. A good suggestion, a good order, was a good suggestion and a good order. Something to not be wasted. He just felt it unfair that Susan had come up with it and not himself. Caspian should have been planning farther ahead, rather than just the here and now. At least Susan was just going through the motions, not really doing any of the real leading.

Except for the spies it seemed. But much of that appeared to be in Morningdew's hands. And as the scoutmaster it was a natural progression that the woman would also be head of the spies. So, again, it was okay when Caspian thought of it all in those terms.

Susan was walking by his side, her hand on Luis' shoulder for balance in the deep snow. Yet another thing he wasn't sure if he liked, this suggestion for Susan's practice made him uncomfortable. For one, he couldn't see her, couldn't watch the graceful line of her body as she pulled on the string. Secondly it was cold outside - the snow was at least half a meter deep. And winter wasn't even in full swing. She shouldn't be out in this, exposed to such harsh weather, she wasn't built for it. No woman was, and a thrill of apprehension coiled in his belly - what if she fell ill? With him unable to care for her?

"You're frowning even more than usual, I thought you'd like the fresh air?"

Caspian hunched his shoulders, shifting around, "You should not be out here though, you are a woman, and your constitution is not as strong as a man's. I do not.. I do not wish for you to fall sick."

"Caspian - don't be silly. A woman's immune system is as strong as a man's, sometimes more so," he could imagine her giving him that patient annoyed look she did sometimes when he was getting on her nerves. At least now he was able to look back on their past interactions and see that for certain.

"I find that unlikely, why else would so many women die in winter from sickness?"

"Because their bodies are always healing? From the fact that the men are always beating them within an inch of their life?" one of her trademark indelicate snorts. "You make the body heal too much, too often, put too much wear and tear on it - it'll break. Like any machine."

"'Machine'? You use strange words sometimes," Caspian wondered for a moment what Luis looked like. Would he be white? Yes, he would be white, pristine like Susan. A good match. Unaware of course that the Horse was almost the same colour as his eyes when seen in sunlight on some parts, and in others as dark as his eyes indoors or when he was irate. But he was right in that Luis would have a mane the same colour as fresh snow. He couldn't always be wrong.

"It's a device that does things, like.. um.. a catapult is a type of machine, I suppose, I mean it contains parts and all that," a hand went about his calf, a familiar caress. Sometimes she would randomly touch him like that, something for no reason, something done without thought.

Part of him was pleased that she wasn't so mad at him that she stopped doing that. It was - pleasant.

"Ah," nodding his acceptance of the explanation. He supposed it made sense, for a man who'd been wounded too often in too short a time would recover more slowly than usual. Much like was his problem now.

After a brief walk, they came to a stop, and Susan moved about, then there was the snap of a few blankets being laid down, and then her hand came to rest atop his, signaling it was time for him to dismount. Things were getting easier for him to do without the use of his eyes, particularly since the last few nights Susan had refused to come to their room for she had still been displeased with him, so he'd had to be a bit more self-sufficient. It was good practice at least.

Venturing, "You are at least well bundled?"

"I'm not stupid Caspian," mild chiding, "Though I doubt you'd be happy with my choice of clothes at the moment, but there was no way I was going to drag one of my dresses through the snow."

Grunting, "Trews?"

"And silk leggings beneath them, a double tunic and a cloak. Happy?"

"Somewhat," making himself comfortable on the thick blanket she'd laid out.

A stiff breeze was blowing - from the south it seemed, whipping his hair about. Though the ever present band of cloth he wore over his eyes lessened the effect, and had the added benefit of keeping them warm - they seemed to be prone to cold for some reason, and he'd taken to wearing the cloth even when alone. Sounds of rummaging, and then Susan came back to him rather then setting about practicing, seating herself next to him. He'd missed that, the feeling of her leaning against his arm, letting him know she was there. His sleep hadn't been good the nights she'd stayed away, and when he did get rest, Caspian suspected it may have been because something was added to his food. But it was of no matter.

An equine huff and then there was something large laying behind Caspian, "If Your Highnesses would like to lean upon me, I would be more than happy to oblige. Susan, you have not been out riding enough of late, and I miss your weight."

The smile was almost visible from her warm voice, "I'll have to remedy that then. Thank you Luis, you've been a great help you know."

Caspian refrained from accepting the invitation and just stayed still while Susan scooted back.

"So?"

"What?" Caspian's head turned in Susan's direction.

"Are you going to yell at me now? If so, this is your last chance, I won't listen to it after this," she sounded calm but tired.

"...I do not follow your meaning," folding his legs beneath him to sit crossed legged.

"About going behind your back, I had no choice, you don't think in those terms, and it had to be done," a sigh.

Tucking his cloak about himself, "You are a woman, such things should not concern you."

"Yes, yes, 'it is a man's place'. You say that so much you sound like a broken record," snorting.

"Nevertheless, a woman should not find herself worrying over these things Susan, it is a man's duty to care for a woman, to make it so she does not find herself doing something that is not her responsibility," trying to use a logic she'd understand. "Women take care of hearth, home and children. Men must do what needs to be done to allow for this, so that the women can focus on those important issues."

"Well that makes sense to a degree Caspian, but - you leave me no choice, you don't take care of anyone but your own whims," fingers curled around the back of his neck, and Caspian finally let himself scoot back, finding himself laying back with his head pillowed on Susan's breast. Her voice vibrated through her chest and he could hear her heartbeat, "You put yourself in danger repeatedly Caspian rather than think of the longview. So, someone, even if it is a woman, has to come up with precautions and contingencies. All the while you go haring off, riding patrols, leading camp raids."

"Then men need to know that I am willing to sacrifice as much as them," pointing out.

This was a passing strange conversation, he'd never had to justify his reasons, and never felt that someone else's views had merit. Was it being blind, in love, or having someone who acted as his equal, that enabled these sorts of thoughts to go through his mind? Or maybe it was just Susan in general, her mind was facile in a way he'd only reserved for men, and while in the past he'd accepted her suggestions, there was a limit to what he could cope with.

Susan was running her fingers through his hair, and along his forehead, to his cheeks, the touch was absentminded, and thrilling - it wasn't like sex, it wasn't like when he was desperate for her... it was... strange. Unfamiliar. And it filled him with an illilogical urge to forget about the fact that he needed to reason with her. Maybe if he could convince her through logic and reason to stay in her place, maybe then he could protect her in the long run - for ordering her into her place hadn't worked and only lead up to this situation. The Council wouldn't understand and they'd take her from him if they ever knew. It didn't occur to him to just kill the whole aristocracy (though oddly the bloodthirsty thought had entered Susan's mind and quickly been shoved aside as inhuman) which would have been the most Telmarine solution to the problem. So, he tried to make her see his point, for the few times she'd given into his demands with any kind of grace it was when he'd discussed them with her. (The thought was still unnatural, but he was running on his gut, and that's what it told him to do.)

"They also need their leader safe Caspian, to plan for things beyond just the simple bolstering of their moral."

"And it allows me to know the terrain," pointing that out, "it allows me to know the leaders amongst them, to pick who is best suited for each action."

"Do you plan on knowing each man in your army? On screening them all, on picking the perfect fit each time? Try delegating, you're only one man," Susan smelled of sword oil and leather, an odd combination on her, yet it was quite pleasing when overlaying her own peppermint and lemony musk.

Rubbing his head back and forth, hands folded over his stomach, "I do. Glenstorm and Morningdew, and even you - each assists me in the minutia I can not see to."

"We're only three people, and even I find myself having to set tasks at others feet, there aren't enough hours in a day, you work yourself until you drop Caspian." Susan leaned over him, her mouth brushing his, "Before I came, Glenstorm told me you would go days without sleep, sometimes without food, just so you could work yourself to the bone trying to do everything. You help the laborers build the fortifications, you've laid _bricks_ Caspian. You've dug trenches, you've cut down trees, you've hunted, scouted, raided, lead, bled, and sweated over every task you could find." Her cheek was soft where it was pressed to the side of his nose, her breath little puffs of moist steam falling over his chin, "You're only one man Caspian. You can't keep doing this. If you die, what of the Narnians?"

Caspian grunted, "A King must know his people Susan, a King must lead his people, work with them and for them. They must know that they are his possessions, something to be cared for and tended to and known. I do all this so that they may know these things, for they are unfamiliar with me as I am with them. The Narnians are my people now, they are not aware of these responsibilities I have, and so I must work doubly - nay, triply - hard to show them." Shrugging one shoulder, "If they were Telmarine I would not need to prove myself, and would simply do as you ask: delegate. But they are not, and so I need to do these things. And you should not worry over these things."

"But Caspian, I do," hand slid down his chest to wrap around his, "And what if you die? What if... what if you were captured again? What of the fact that inside your head is all the information needed for Miraz to break the Narnians? To raid their hideaway homes? Their safe valleys? Their nests, hearths, and burrows? Their fields? Is not putting them at that risk as irresponsible as can be?"

Those things were important, yes, but not a point that would sway him. Caspian was glad she did not know the key to breaking him on his stance - that if she asked what would happen to her, that then he'd do much in his power to ease her fear. But, Caspian was still Telmarine, still a King in waiting, and so he'd never tell her that vital piece of information. He could not afford to be manipulated.

"It is a necessary risk with many benefits in the long run," trying to stop himself from pressing his body further back against her.

The cold air felt good when it was contrasted by the warmth of Susan behind him, and Caspian tried to absorbed the moments. Such times were fleeting and far between, and so were to be savored.

"Susan," his voice soft, "you must be careful. For me to even... speak of these things with you is forbidden. I can only excuse it because you are ignorant of tradition, of law. When I take my throne, you _must_ not act in the manner you have. Ever."

"Caspian, that's not me, it'll never be me. I'm not Telmarine, nor will I ever pretend otherwise," Caspian missed her closeness immediately as she pulled away from him.

"Then you will die."

"...I know..."

Clenching his jaw, Caspian sat up, "You do not know, not at all. It will not be easy, you think my treatment of you has been harsh? It would be as nothing your innocent mind can comprehend. And it will be I who must do it to you." Turning towards her, Caspian reached blindly for Susan's hands, "You must... you must tell me everything you have done, I must find some way to hide your actions. Are... are you the one who heads the spies?"

"Caspian..."

"Tell me, tell me now, I must devise some method Susan, I will not let the Council take you from me when I have worked so hard to gain my throne once more," shaking his head. "I cannot, I have vowed it, and so it must be done Susan. To break my word would make me as the Council, and I cannot allow it, so I must know what I have to hide. All of it."

Gloveless fingers reached out touching his lips after a moment, "I don't want to get into this right now Caspian. I don't want to argue with you."

"Are you the head of the intelligence network? Answer me," taking hold of Susan's wrist, Caspian moved it to press against his cheek.

"Yes."

"You.. you planned Sopesbian's death?"

"Yes."

"You created the whole system?"

"Yes Caspian, I did. It may be hard for you to believe a woman can actually use her brain, but they can," Caspian refused to release his grip, though Susan tugged lightly.

Carefully he moved forward, until he was able to pull Susan into a kiss. She seemed surprised yet gave in, gloved hand moving beneath his cloak to go around his back and stroke the tense muscles beneath his jerkin and shirts.

Resting his lips on her forehead, "We must be cautious, and it must never be known that you had any part in that. Ever."

Susan merely nodded, hugging him.

"It was a good plan," his only concession to the fact that it was, and that he appreciated Susan's effort. And that he kind of wished he'd come up with it himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It had been awhile, and Caspian was starting to become... a bit disgusted with it. Wrinkling his nose, Caspian finally decided to do something about it.

"Susan, have a bath brought here," unaware that he was snapping at her. Frankly he hated feeling so - helpless. Though he had gotten quite good at moving around rooms he was familiar with, like their bedroom and the command room.

"I was actually debating how to ask you if you wanted one," the utter relief in Susan's voice would have been amusing but for the fact that he was irritated.

His skin itched, and that was unbearable. That and his beard had gone on too long, and he was sure he looked quite idiotic - in the spots it grew well, the beard was probably quite neat - it was all the patches where it _didn't_ grow that lent a ragged air to him. Most Telmarine men allowed their facial hair to become full, even his contemporaries had some decorative hair - Inigo had sported a rather handsome mustache and goatee at their last meeting. But Caspian? It had been a point to his vanity that he had proved unable to achieve anything even somewhat dignified looking. Though he had tried. Repeatedly.

Scratching at his neck and chin, "I must shave as well."

"Oh you are not shaving, no, I know what you use, and incase you hadn't noticed Caspian - you're blind," shuffling papers, scratching quill.

Gritting his teeth, Caspian refrained from snarling at her, he was just cross at the moment. Once the bath was here she would see reason, not that she could stop him anyway - she'd never thought to take his weapons from him. For which he was glad (he was unaware of multitude of things - including the fact that Susan knew how much he depended on his arms as showing his identity - both culturally and gender wise). Some time passed and Lurrulg along with a couple other minotaurs knocked upon his door, bringing in the large wooden tub. Probably one of the best applications of his carpentry skills, Caspian felt, was the making of the apparatus. Though the work was a touch shoddy due to the haste he'd used in it's creation several days after he'd dominated Susan the first time. It could be called one of the many gifts he'd created for her.

Water splashing from a constant train of buckets and Caspian's room started to warm by simple fact of the presence of so much hot water. Once the others had left the room, Caspian shucked his clothing quickly, letting the pieces fall where they would. He found the basin by bumping into it. Ignoring Susan's probable mirth - he could feel her eyes on him and it raised the hair on his arms and back of his neck - Caspian dipped a hand into the water. It was just this side of too hot, but no matter, Caspian could take quite a bit of punishment. And the faster he was in, the faster he was clean, and the faster he could get out. Climbing in with minimal splashing, a few grunts of discomfort as the hot water hit his skin, and then he managed to settle in.

Dunking himself, Caspian jerked in surprise when a hand touched his ankle beneath the water. Shooting up, his hands wrapped around the side of the tub, half rising free of the water.

"Calm down! It's just me!"

Breathing heavily, Caspian tried to get his heartbeat to slow down - he was disgustingly vulnerable right now, unarmed, blind, and in a tub. Foolish.

"Do not.. do not -" growling.

"I was just going to help..." Susan was audibly shrinking in on herself, sometimes she did that when he was angry, like she expected him to hit her.

But he couldn't remember the last time he'd hit Susan to hurt her.

Heart rate down to a normal level, "I am perfectly capable of caring for myself. I am blind, not an infant."

"I'm sorry," and a thump as her voice got distant - in the direction of their bed. She'd probably thrown herself onto it. Susan said something that came out muffled.

Cocking his head, Caspian tried to decipher what it was, and came up empty handed. Grunting, "What did you say?"

"I said I was trying to be nice, heaven forefend you let someone who's fond of you touch you in any manner that makes you seem weak," the words came out strained, as though she were holding in tears.

Had his snapping at her truly upset her so?

Water swished around him as he turned to 'look' at Susan, "I do not see how you treating me as helpless is 'nice'."

"I know you're not helpless Caspian, I just.. never mind, you stupid arse you'll never understand," a 'whump' from a punched pillow or blanket possibly. Or from covering her head. She was a very weird being - so very childish at times, one minute a woman of indominateble will, the next meek as a kitten, and the next playful as a puppy.

"Then why do you act like that towards me?"

No response, but he knew she hadn't left, he would have heard that. Susan must still be on the bed.

"Susan? Why do treat me as though I am helpless?" though he was... handicapped to a degree, in a manner that no Telmarine would willingly tolerate. Many of the elder Telmarine men would have their sons kill them once they became infirm with no hope of recovery. But Caspian had too many things to do, and just like he wouldn't consider not sitting upon his rightful throne, he wouldn't think on his sight never returning. Not honestly.

Silk on wool and fur but no other sound. Then there was a wet snuffle, almost too faint for him to hear.

"Susan - tell me," ordering her.

"Leave me alone," though it came out as 'weefmeawone' due to having been muttered into thick fabric.

Baring his teeth towards the bed, "If you do not tell me, then do not dare to be mad at me."

"I'm not mad," again with Caspian having to figure out what 'Mphnodmadth' meant.

"Then what in all the powers are you?" exasperated.

Something went whistling past his ear, then made a soft sound - so it was most likely a pillow - as it landed, "I'm hurt! Okay? I'm hurt that you don't want me to take care of you or help you! Okay?! Happy now?!" and then a sob.

Now that absolutely confounded him - why would she want to take care of him?

Scratching his head, "Why?"

"Because - I'm fond of you," strangled noise as Susan struggled to compose herself. "And when you're fond of someone, you help them, you stay by them. Right? Isn't that what you're supposed to do?" she sounded so uncertain - like she had once been sure, and now was no longer.

Caspian couldn't really think of a response to that - because how would he know? The only thing he'd ever been fond of before (let alone loved) was Destrier. And of course he'd cared for his mount and friend greatly, rubbing him down, feeding him, talking to him, riding him, spending time with him, when he'd broken a leg instead of putting the horse down, Caspian had fed him by hand, and as gently as possible helped him back to full strength. Then it made sense - to Susan he was like Destrier had been to him, when the horse had been injured. Somehow the thought warmed him, maybe she... felt the same way as he did? Good - then they were on even footing. But she didn't know that he knew, or that he was in love with her, so he held the upper hand.

Clearing his throat into his fist before trying something new for him, "If you would still like to ah... assist, I would.. like the ah - demonstration of your.. fondness."

Shocked silence was almost as loud as if Susan had screamed 'What?!'

Caspian stayed still, not sure what would happen next. He felt as tense as he did before a duel, just waiting and waiting.

Opening his mouth to speak again, Susan said, "You.. would?"

Mouth snapping close audibly, he only nodded.

"You won't - mind?"

Shaking his head wordlessly, settling back into the tub. Right now he wished very much he could see Susan's face - to see if she was pleased or confused or angry. Sometimes her voice was impossible to read, too conflicted, and filled with things he had no experience in. Fabric made little noises as it moved with Susan. A series of rustles and then a sigh of relief. None of that made much sense to Caspian but it was unlikely it was bad precisely - it was just unknown. Damnable blindness.

Padding slaps of a bare foot on stone, then peppermint and lemon and something all Susan filled his nose.

"May I join you then?"

That had never entered his mind, but the thought was a good one. Sometimes he forgot how smart she could be.

Nodding Caspian scooted around a bit so there'd be more room.

The water rose up higher on his torso as Susan's weight displaced some, and then busy hands were running over his chest along with soap. Sucking in a sharp breath, Caspian stirred suddenly at the touch. Tipping his head back, Caspian just relaxed as Susan began to wash him, and his hands sought her waist, needing the anchor otherwise he feared he may loose his mind. There was just something so... animalistically... soothing in this act. Susan's touches weren't of a sexual nature, so many of them weren't, so many were just this simple thing, the caring of him, the easing of his hurts. Things he hadn't even known hurt were smoothed away by Susan and her manner, and it made Caspian crazy for he had no idea how to respond. Lust was usually what he could equate it to, and often when she ran her hands over him, that is what his eventual way of handling it was.

"Could you get my back?" Susan wiggled around, carefully pushing the soap into his hand.

Leaning forward, Caspian did as she asked.

Still he'd not said a word, his jaw had to stay locked or he may say things that revealed too much. That was now a constant worry to add to his plethora of things he had to watch for. Building lather between his palms, Caspian handed it back to her, biting his tongue firmly until he started to taste copper. Sweeping long strokes over the feminine curve of her back, skin slippery beneath his fingertips, Caspian saw with his hands. Saw each dip and curve of her spine, and the thin ridges of her shoulder blades, then up to her shoulders themselves. Digging his thumbs in firmly, massaging the muscles she probably didn't even know were tight.

Susan let out a deep moan, her head rolling this way and that, pressing herself into his hands. Allowing his hands to move from her back and shoulders, Caspian relathered his hands then pulled her further between his spread knees, making her recline against him. Moving over her shoulders, slowly, to Susan's breasts, stroking them and weighing them in his palms, unable stop his own groan when Susan wriggled, rubbing her lower back over his throbbing length that was trapped between them. He was still undecided if this was a good idea or a bad one, because now he realized he'd overstepped some hidden barrier in his own mind. Right now all he wanted to whisper in her ear, to suck on a lobe and ask her to - something.

Shying away from it, Caspian merely nipped at the back of her neck, hooking her legs with his feet, spreading them, arm gliding down the center of her torso straight to her sex. Traces of soap, bitter and harsh, hit his tongue when he licked the length of her throat. Ignoring it in favour of forcing more sighs from Susan, Caspian delved his fingers into the slickness waiting for him.

"C-caspian, um," Susan grabbed his wrist, tugging it away from her felinity, "now is.. now isn't a good time."

Grunting, it took some doing to unlock his jaw once more, while not letting all sorts of things spill from his mouth, "Now is always a good time."

"I.. I don't really want..." Caspian let her roll over so that they were nose to nose, "I'll take care of you though, okay?"

Shaking his head, "I wish to touch you."

"I just wanted to get clean, that's all, please? That's all I want right now, don't - don't make me, okay? Please?"

Tack on another thing to the list that was titled 'Strange Things About Susan Caspian Didn't Understand'.

Giving in, Caspian changed the subject, "I need a shave."

"No you don't."

"Yes - I do," rubbing one of the patchy spots, "it itches. And I shall go mad if I do not get rid of this.. this.."

"You look very.. handsome..." there was a hesitation on the word.

Raising a brow, "Yes much like a rug that has lost parts of its design from being worn down. I need my knife."

"You'll hurt yourself."

"You could do it. Take care of me like you wish - rid me of this... pathetic hair that makes me look a jester," grunting, arms hanging over the sides of the tub.

"I'll probably wind up cutting your throat..." Caspian snorted at her, and she added, "accidentally of course."

"But of course. Now - bring me my knife. Please," as an afterthought.

Those six letters got him alot it seemed.

And he'd never quite understand _that_ either.


	16. Chapter 16

He wondered if he had done something to anger Susan. She had kissed him that morning after a raucous round of lovemaking, so he didn't think so. But Caspian could never be quite sure. Susan had said she was just going to 'run a few errands around' that needed to be seen to. Caspian of course assumed that those 'errands' would not take her a whole day.

Though Caspian couldn't quite be sure of the length of time she'd been gone. At least not entirely. Time was a bit odd when all you saw was blackness. As well as the fact that if he got outside Caspian would have difficulties figuring the hour still - the sun was weak in winter, and so the heat or lack of heat or direction of the heat would be totally moot - for there wasn't really any. With a grunt Caspian got up, he was so bored he thought he'd start screaming and tearing at his hair, just for something to do. With a little bit of doing, Caspian managed to rummage in Susan's clotheschest (well it was his now too apparently - generally he was the sort to just throw his spares in a sack, but she had folded them and put them in with her things, it made Caspian feel funny thinking of his things nestled so close to hers) for a change of clothing.

Disrobing and then redressing in something a little less 'relaxed' than linen leggings that he wore in the privacy of their room, Caspian felt a bit more normal. Counting steps he then got to his sword belt and looped it around his waist properly, it was odd - at first he'd been unable to do something he could've done in his sleep when he first lost his sight - despite having done it millions of times before. Deciding that it was all in his head, Caspian had gotten over that feeling, and now was fully capable of tying the proper knots and buckles in the formal duelist's belt, just as he always had before. Pausing, he debated the wisdom of his decision - going out to find Susan in his current... state... would be difficult.

Shaking his head, muttering to himself, "So I cannot see - I can still find her. Stop worrying."

And so he found the door with his usual ease, then opened it. Drawing up his internal map of the How, Caspian placed his palm against the wall taking careful steps, trying to remember the twists and turns without visual cues. Really he should make this mandatory - everyone must know the How inside and out so well that they can do it blindfolded. Yes, excellent idea.

And not at all amusing - because what would be funny about seeing hundreds of his people, blindfolded, trying to find their way around?

Definitely an excellent idea, probably one of his best.

"Your Highness?" thank all the powers, the hall had been empty - except for this one witness - because when Jiroon spoke, Caspian was so surprised he jumped up a bit, then stumbled, coming close to falling.

"Damn!" catching himself, Caspian tried to remember what number of steps he was on.

"My apologies Your Highness," freezing cold wet nose delicately touching his fingertips.

Caspian refused to request help, after all he was not lost, merely - taking a stroll. A very random stroll. And unable to recall his number of steps.

"Not to worry Sir Jiroon, your apology is accepted," nodding magnanimously.

"Your Highness I was wondering if I could accompany you? My day has been rather slow, and I would thoroughly enjoy some company," Caspian had a flash of thought - damn Jiroon should be head of diplomacy when he was King. Definitely.

Though it did gall Caspian a bit, he allowed the help (after all if he was utterly honest with himself he could use it - but no where would you ever hear him admit that), "Ah yes, that would be welcome."

A huge thick boned head was pushed into his palm, and they started to walk. There were a few times where they were trying to get the hang of the other's pace, but after a few false starts they settled into a comfortable arrangement. Really Caspian could almost fool himself he was alone and finding his way under his own power while merely taking a large cat for a stroll. Not that Jiroon was some tame beast, and he was almost - friendly. The lack of talking was actually quite companionable, and Caspian remembered why he cared for the Narnians beyond their mere usefulness - they were peaceful and calm in a way that was absent from their human counterparts.

A Telmarine would feel the need to either cower, gush or yammer on to Caspian at the attention of their ruler, but the Narnians were happy yet not effusive. Glenstorm, one of the first Narnians he'd met, would always be the one he was closest to, striking Nikabrik from that number for his betrayal of course, but Jiroon had been nothing but a friend to Susan. And by extension, himself.

"Susan has been gone for some time," making a statement, looking for information.

"Not all that long Your Highness."

He left it at that, not wanting to sound like he missed his wife. Bringing himself up short - his 'wife'? Susan wasn't his...she wasn't his wife. Not really. Gritting his teeth, Caspian snorted. This was absolute folly - searching for Susan, no she wasn't his wife, not one bit. Just his.. just his mistress. Even if the Narnians felt otherwise. And, even if it seemed natural to put her in that category now. No mistress would have done what she did, risked all that she had. A wife wouldn't even do that. Husbands certainly didn't, that was for sure. Glenstorm would do it for his wife, and she would do it for him.

"Sir Jiroon, I have some matters to attend to in my room," a politic way of saying that he needed to be guided back that way.

"Of course Your Highness," and with gentle nudges Jiroon helped Caspian get turned in the right direction and they made their way back.

Closing the door behind him once he was in he and Susan's room, Caspian leaned his back against it. What was happening to him? Had his captivity changed him so much that he could think of Susan as.. as.. Well he did love her. And she did belong to him. Raking his hands through his hair, displacing his eye covering, Caspian tried to muddle through it all. She apparently had started thinking of herself as his wife, his partner, that much was obvious. Susan pulled her weight that much was true. Also she had done things only a Narnian would do for their partner.

Was he her partner? Was she his?

Shaking it off, Caspian knew these thoughts were useless. It was all just too much change. For a moment he considered changing his behaviour towards Susan, go back to the way things had been before. Simple. Before hadn't been simple though, she'd never really just been 'captive', not entirely. At the time he'd fooled himself into believing his interests in her had been purely for finding out her reasons for being here. No, those blue eyes and how they raged at him openly, as though they were equals - that had intrigued him.

Intriguing, definitely a good word for Susan. Frustrating, maddening, and annoying were also good choices. Licking his lips, Caspian tried to listen to his head, and what it told him was to be rid of her. But his head also said Susan served too many purposes. Then there was the fluttery feeling in his gut and chest when she was near. Like his tongue wished to wag and promise her anything she wanted, so long as she would kiss him. Shuddering, Caspian could see quite clearly for all his blindness that love could be viewed as a disease well and truly. Because he was fevered when she was near, and desolate when she wasn't.

If that was love, he had no clue what to do with it.

His gut told him to just give in, to even propose marriage to her - despite the fact that they were already wed by commonlaw - for it had seemed important to her. Even in the few offhand comments she made about it right after he'd rescued her, 'It's not like you'd marry me'. Or 'you never even proposed', so such a thing must be a great deal where she came from. In Telmar it was simple if a man wished to actually take a woman as wife or for an alliance - the woman's guardian would sign over her care and wardship to the husband, and then her things would be moved to the husband residence. A woman was never asked her opinions, for they didn't matter.

Pushing himself free of the door, Caspian made his way to their bed, and sat upon it thinking. It wouldn't be wise to let Susan know how much she dominated his thoughts, or that he loved her - let alone that he suspected she more than simply was fond of him herself - because then she could use that to her advantage. And if Caspian knew one thing for sure, it was that Susan would, because that's what people did. Even strange ones like her. There always had to be some angle, it was just human nature.

A knock heralded the arrival of his food - probably Rosetta from the gait, surprisingly Caspian was able to pick out particular people and their walk if they were familiar. And Rosetta was usually who brought the meals, so he'd heard her quite a few times.

No Susan of course.

"Tell me," clearing his throat, "what sorts of errands would take so long?"

Rosetta made a little sound then, "Su's only been gone for a bit Your Highness."

Snorting, Caspian shook his head, "It seems she has been gone for some time."

"Your Highness she hasn't been gone all that long, she'll be back soon enough," then Rosetta was gone, fast as she had come.

Maybe this, much like his initial inability to work the ties and buckles to his belt, was all in his head. Yes, it was probably just that. So, for fear of seeming a lovestruck fool, Caspian decided to not worry over this for too long. This imposed inactivity was mucking with his mind, and was leading him towards far too much introspection.

Growling at himself, Caspian went and bolted his food, barely tasting it, and barely tasting the tea as it went down, if he'd taken a bit more time his subsequent sleepiness would have made sense. But since he hadn't, Caspian found himself yawning, and stumbled back to the bed, falling asleep quickly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Caspian was getting miffed, mostly at himself, but some with Susan. Why did she have to go out for these 'errands'? This was the fourth time in less than two weeks she'd left to run errands, and each time felt like more than just a few hours had passed. Almost like a day or more had. But everyone he dared to mention the length of her absence to, seemed to think it was normal, and that she'd only been gone for awhile. Agitated that his mind was playing so many tricks on him, Caspian had tried to come up with a productive way of coping.

So, now his hilt was in his hand, and he began moving through the stances, starting off with the simple ones first. If he could get the hang of this while he was unsighted, it could serve two purposes. One, relief of boredom and adding a worthwhile distraction for his body, and two, it could possibly be applied in battle. For instance if a gout of blood got in his face (blood was rather irritating that way - got everywhere and was hell to deal with) it would be less likely to startle him or give an enemy an opening, for he could still lay about with his blade expertly. Of course there was a third benefit - it would prevent him from becoming rusty.

Deep focus settled over Caspian like a familiar cloak, and he sped up his light stomp-slide-slash-twist-thrust-back-step-reposte motions, until he fell into a state of calm that he'd been unable to achieve in forever. There was once a point in time when Caspian would practice like this, with closed eyes, and that is much like what this became. Opening his senses, Caspian let his body lead and follow the point of his sword, sweat slowly forming and then a little drop rolled down his temple. Sounds already sharpened to his ears became thunderings, along with the air being cut by his body and sword. It was no struggle at all to pick up the sound of approaching footsteps to the door, and Caspian dismissed them as familiar and nonthreatening, so he didn't stop.

The audience of one that he had wasn't distracting at all, but the realization of who his watcher was inspired him to greater speed and complicated maneuvers. Dagger flew to his hand, and Caspian was twining his body expertly this way and that, until he tried to do a spinning jump, which he barely pulled off, narrowly avoiding the table at the last minute remembering its presence.

"Next time we should have that moved, don't you think?" Susan's voice was welcome, and instead of worried or condescending like he'd thought she'd be upon witnessing his fumble, it was soft and warm.

Tossing his head, damp hair slapping on the back of his neck, "Yes that would be wise. I would almost have it removed, for three tables in this room is a bit much."

"Mmmhmm, but it gives us something to eat on," moving around the room.

Unerringly Caspian tracked the motion with his head, giving the illusion that he could see her, "You were gone quite some time." Wiping his forehead on his sleeve before sheathing his sword, "I was bored." Gesturing with his dagger then flipping it in the air, catching it with practiced ease (yet another thing he'd never used his eyes for in years and now that he'd come to the conclusion that much of his difficulties in moving around had to do with headgames, Caspian was able to do many of that which he'd always done before), "So I decided to amuse myself."

"You missed me?" teasing surprise.

Caspian caught himself before he started smiling, "I said I was bored."

"So - you missed me?"

"No, I said I was bored, it means I had nothing to do," because admmiting that he'd missed her wasn't acceptable.

Even if he had.

"Ah.. I'll take what I can get," leather being removed sounded very different than any other material, and only one set of Susan's clothes were leather - her trews.

Pursing his lips Caspian debated waiting until she'd redressed before going over to her, and of course his body won out. Sneaking up behind her quietly, his arms snaked around her trim naked waist, pulling her to his sweat-soaked shirt covered chest.

"If you will take what you can get, then I can give you something else," purring into her ear.

Susan shivered in his arms, "Hmmmtempting I suppose..."

"I was bored, and you were not here, how will you make it up to me?" hands stroking over her soft belly, a fingertip wiggling just over the top of her thatch.

Turning in his embrace, Susan draped her arms on his shoulders, palms tip-tapping on his back, "I've got an idea of how to do that."

Sometimes she sounded so sweet and minx-like that Caspian thought he'd fall over, especially when she rubbed up against him. Susan was normally reserved which was somewhat annoying, he wanted more of what had happened in the tent, her desperation to have him buried in her body. Which meant that when Susan was bold like this was welcome in many ways, Caspian wanted her to need him like he... like he needed her.

"Oh?" hands traveling, grasping and grabing at her, petting Susan all over, encouraging more responses.

"Undress and go lay down," rubbing her forehead in his chest.

Cocking his head, Caspian wondered what she'd do. Shucking his clothes quickly, Caspian flopped with an 'oomph' on the bed. And waited. Clinks and rummaging in the chest, and then a little 'ah-ha there you are' from Susan, then she was next to him.

"Okay, roll over," a little push on his shoulder, urging.

Pursing his lips, "Roll over? Do I play dead then? Or just bark 'hello'?"

"Don't be an arse, roll over," light stroke to his jaw.

Deciding to trust her, Caspian did as requested, tugging a pillow beneath him for support, then resting his cheek on his folded arms. Gasping when something cool drizzled onto his back, quickly followed by a hand smearing whatever it was around, and Caspian was almost disappointed. That is until Susan straddled the backs of his thighs, and he felt the warmth of her center next to him, and then the massage began. Moaning when Susan's hands started working on a thick knot of tension, the pressure gradually increasing until he started to purr. Then sweeping fingers moved onto the next section. Purring every few minutes, then she was at the back of his neck, stretching her whole body over him, so her breasts were over his broad back.

"Do you like that?" shading of uncertainty.

"Mmmyes, more," switching the side of his face he was laying on.

"Legs?"

"Certainly," sighing.

Susan scooted down his body, taking one of his feet in hand, and it tickled when she stroked his toes but it felt wonderful. Half asleep, Caspian mumbled, "It has been years it seems since I have had a good massage."

"Oh?"

Caspian rarely spoke of his life before the war, yet he felt like his... concubine - that was an easier category for him to put her in, more rights than a mistress, less than a wife (and easier for his head to wrap around at this point) - should know some of his world. It would be her world soon enough. And it was a simple thing to speak of, nothing that required much explaining to her foreign mind.

Grunting, "After weapons practice the sons would receive one."

"Was the practice before or after the beating?" he could hear her trying to make light, but there was a tremor to her voice he couldn't put name to.

"After," shifting when Susan pressed a tender spot. "That was a morning occurrence, before breakfast. Ten lashes every morning. Unless discipline needed to be enforced. Then it could be as many as fifty."

Susan paused, her hands only barely resting on his calf, "That's... terrible. Fifty lashes? Wouldn't that... wouldn't that kill the boy?"

"Most times, yes. Some though were so used to receiving many more lashes than most and so fifty lashes was a trial yes, but survivable," uncomfortable now.

He'd gained fifty lashes several times.

Hesitant fingers touched the small of his back, "Caspian," a tiny whisper.

Cutting Susan off before she could ask, "Yes. It is over and done with." Cracking his neck as Caspian switched his head's position once more, "The baths were a reward for those who survived and those who worked hard. A woman, usually one of the bastard daughters of some Lord, would be the assistant and massage the worn muscles." When Susan didn't continue her touching, Caspian lifted his head towards her, "You may continue."

"O-okay," Susan's voice shook but Caspian ignored it.

They were both silent for long minutes until Susan lay along his back once more. Fingers petted the back of his head, and Susan's lips were feathering over his shoulders.

"Caspian..." breath in his ear.

Twitching all over, Caspian rolled over, he didn't want more of this pity, snapping, "Enough. I do not dwell on it, and I know you are a woman and prone to such weakness, but I command you to cease this... this... disgusting pathos. It is irritating."

Susan drew away from him a moment, then Caspian found himself pinned beneath her, a curtain of hair touching his cheeks and shoulders, "It's not pity! It's not weakness - Caspian... I feel.. I feel pain for you. It hurts that you were hurt. All I can see is.."

"Is what?" swallowing, afraid, yet unable to stop himself from asking.

"Is you tied up, and hurting, all I can see is that over and over again, and the image of what must have been done to do that... To do this," fingers went beneath his back touching the tissue there.

Mostly Caspian didn't think about it, rarely even remembered any of it at all.

"To become a man is hard Susan, it takes work, sweat, blood and pain."

"Talk to me about it," sitting back on his thighs instead of laying over him.

"Why?"

"So I can understand," Caspian expected her to say 'you', but she surprised him, "the hell that you plan on raising your children in."

Raising a brow, "Children? You are with child?" Shaking his head, "You should not be, your food has been dosed for months."

Susan was alarmed, "What? Does with what? Poison?"

Grabbing her before she could vault free of him, Caspian frowned, "With a root to prevent such things. It is a normal precaution, all women are in the How. As well as outside of it."

"...It won't kill me?"

"Certainly not," snorting, "it is simply a precaution. That is all."

"Oh," slumping in his arms.

Curious, "What did you mean by 'children' then if you are not with child?"

"Huh? Oh. Well I meant when you have them," shrugging, palms laying over his shoulders.

"Oh," then lay back down, dragging Susan with him. Pausing, "It is not a hell in which sons are brought up in."

"It sounds like it, with all the violence," wiggling until she was more comfortable.

Caspian thought she'd fallen asleep Susan was so quiet, and the evening hadn't turned out anywhere near what he'd wanted. Tangling his fingers in her hair, Caspian just held her in his arms.

"Caspian?"

He'd been slipping into sleep himself, "Hmmph?"

"Would you raise your children like that? Like... like some monstrous project? Like they were to be shoved into some mould to turn them into souless killers?" heartbroken, that's how she sounded.

"What do you mean? My sons will have a good Telmarine upbringing."

"Oh. Then.. then I hope you never have children Caspian. Really I do," before she rolled away from him, climbing beneath the covers.

"Eventually you will bear my sons Susan," Caspian found himself saying. It seemed natural.

"That's what you think, because if you're the kind of monster who can do something like that to his children, I certainly won't be having any of your children - no matter what," then Susan was leaving the bed before Caspian could catch hold of her. "You're a better man than that, you're not some animal, some ravenous beast. So - if I thought you would do that.. if ... if I were to have your children - not saying that I would - you'd better treat them right. Or, or I'd hurt you. A lot. I won't let you hurt them."

"What would you have me do then? Raise them to be soft? Weak? A son must be strong or the wolves will tear him apart," shaking his head. "I had a brother Susan, older by ten years. I do not remember him, he was dead by the time I was three. He had been raised soft Susan, I will not make my parents' mistakes."

Clothing swished, Susan getting dressed once more, "Then you'll have to find someone to marry Caspian, some poor slattern to bear your poor children. You'll be just like all the other dogs you grew up with then. I pity the Narnians, I pity your children, and I pity you then. I wash my hands of it."

"Susan!" barking at her. "Do not walk out that door."

"You can't stop me."

"Dammit woman, you are my wife, do as I say!"

Susan stormed back over to him, "I am not your wife, I am not your anything Caspian. Not if you plan on being the sort of piece of shit that your people raised you to be. Last I checked you were Narnian-Telmarine, not Telmarine-Telmarine. If you want to be a damn Telmarine - fine. You can do it with someone else in your bed!"

Caspian leaped from the bed, stalking towards the sound of her breathing, "Be careful the tone you use Susan. I will not tolerate insult - "

A crack as her hand smacked him, "You will not tolerate? You will not tolerate? You do not give birth, you don't carry a child in your womb for nine-months, you don't do a damn thing but take part in the fun of creation! And it's only fun for you!" Caspian recoiled at the sheer disgust in her voice, "You are as nothing, what with being such an ignorant man. If you think yourself unworthy of insult, then act like it. Be a man, a real man. Not this.. this... thing that wants to be Telmarine and will never succeed but only bring misery to others!"

His fingers went to his smarting cheek, shocked by her words, "You are mine," but it came out timid, "You are my wife." He'd said it twice he realized of a sudden.

"I'm no wife of yours Caspian, you don't want me, you never wanted me, and as much as... as much as I have tried and tried and tried to be whatever it is you really need, to help you, to care for you - there are lines I will not cross. Not for anyone, and certainly not for someone who'd hurt his children. That sort of person isn't worth my time and effort." A hiccup, "Maybe I should've just left you to your people's tender mercies. My biggest mistake was that I tried to see you as a man and not what you are - a degenerate monster."

Feeling like someone was cleaving his chest open, Caspian wrapped his arms around his chest, hugging himself as though he were trying to prevent his ribs being ripped from his chest. It was like Susan had put her hand into his torso, rooted around for his heart, and was pulling on the still beating muscle. Panting, Caspian felt ill, sick to his stomach. A headache blazed behind his eyes, and Caspian felt the room spin, then he realized he was on the floor, coughing and sputtering as he came near to voiding his stomach.

Then gentle hands came and ran up and down his spine. Turning towards her, Caspian clung tightly to Susan. The thought that she believed he was never worth one iota of her time after the lengths she'd gone to - it hurt. Hurt in a way that made him wish for death right then and there. But her arms were wrapping around him, sobbing into his shoulder. She hurt too, he could tell, could feel it, so he held tighter to her.

"What would you have me do then? I cannot make the same mistakes, I must make them strong enough to withstand the games and politics of our people Susan," shaking his head.

"Then change the rules Caspian," whispering, "make it right. Isn't that what you've been planning on doing? Why fix only one problem? Why not fix them all?"

Sighing, "Then you will quit this madness? This denial?"

"Of what?"

"That you are mine," hugging her. "That you are my -" and his ability to use the word flew away, it seemed only in the height of anger or upset that he could.

"I'm not your wife, you have to ask for that privilege," it was a cranky little huff. "I expect better than that if that's what I'm to be. It's only fair."

Definitely not how he'd hoped his evening would turn out.

"Is that your wish? Then fine - will you be my wife?"

"...If asked how I wanted to have a man propose to me, this situation would have never been something I'd come up with." A sigh, "But I'll take what I can get. It's progress at least." For some reason she sounded vaguely amused by it.

Grunting, "Susan I have already given you more consideration than any Telmarine woman would ever receive."

"See there you go again, forgetting that I'm not Telmarine. Never have been, never will be, never would want to be." Lips brushed his jaw, "If you were to just remember I'm, well I suppose Narnian would be the best word, then you'll possibly remember that I expect the sort of treatment a Narnian woman would get. So stop putting me in that category, and things will be better. Now - I'm bushed, can we go to bed now?"

Rising with her they made their way back to bed.

Later, he couldn't be sure, but when Caspian was fairly certain Susan was mostly asleep, he thought he heard a mumbled, 'Definitely not how I thought my night would go.. men.'

XXXXXXXXX

Now Caspian didn't really have an idea of how to act like a 'Narnian' man would towards his spouse, but while he had far far too much time to think on his hands, Caspian tried to come up with something anyway. All that had come to mind was things he'd already done to show his appreciation, yet still Susan would disappear for these 'errands' for protracted amounts of time. Caspian wasn't sure, it really could just be some game his mind was playing on him, but there was the suspicion that she was staying away from him on purpose. To make him learn some 'lesson'. Well, it couldn't hurt to try and see things that way. And if that little worry proved false - what did it matter then, for if his attempts at making things more comfortable for them both were beneficial then there was no loss either way.

So, Caspian found himself trying to think on what to do to make Susan more at ease with this situation. Which was a wholly unfamiliar thought process. Figuring that if these errands were something she did that included much riding, for that's how it seemed, because she often wore her men's clothing, then mayhap her body was sore afterwards. And if she was sore, then perhaps she'd enjoy the treatment that she'd given him a week ago. Deciding that possibly a massage would make Susan ease up on him and actually do what he wanted (which was to stay with him more and not go on so many errands), Caspian searched amongst the various things in their chest. Fingertips alighted upon the glass bottle of oil, and he uncorked it double checking, then went back to the bed, setting his prize by it for later.

Now he'd just have to wait.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Caspian woke up when fingers softly ran over the small of his bare back.

"Hey sleepy-head," gentle strokes to his skin, then face nuzzling into his hair.

"Susan," statement not question.

"Did you miss me?" she always asked him that.

He wondered if he was supposed to say 'yes' - but even if he was, he never would.

"I was bored," using his usual standby. "I thought you would read reports to me today."

Stretching, his spine cracked and a knee cap popped, while Susan drew lazy designs on his stomach, "I'll have to do it later, I'm really tired."

Making a face, "What sort of errands do you do Susan that you are always tired when you are here? It is not seemly to work so hard when you have something else to attend to." Taking Susan's hand, he pressed it to his ever present erection through the linen of his pants, "You are supposed to be here," guiding her hand beneath the waistband of his trews, feeling her chilled fingers on his shaft, "showing me your fondness.."

Susan's hand began massaging his cock, "Well I can show you now."

Thrusting against her palm, "You should, most," sucking in a sharp breath when Susan leaned down licking his neck, "definately then. Other-otherwise I may start doubting it."

A brief clatter from a glass being knocked over then righted, Caspian then remembering the oil and then some was drizzled over his torso. Growling, Caspian pushed his pants down his thighs, all the while Susan let more of the substance drop onto his skin, then it was on his penis, being rubbed in, and Caspian thought not much else felt better than that. Reaching out, Caspian grabbed the back of Susan's neck, pulling her closer, his mouth seeking hers, his other hand demanding rougher treatment for his manhood. Susan's breath was coming almost as fast as his, and her touches became frenzied, thumb rolling over his tip, palm twisting up and down easily with the oils help. It didn't take him long, then a few sticky little puddles lay near his bellybutton, cooling rapidly.

Sitting up, Caspian ignored the messy state he was in, he wanted Susan in just as much disarray. Tearing at her clothes, Caspian never left off kissing her, and when she was nude, Caspian couldn't help the grin as he twisted throwing her down to the bed.

Hovering over her, "Now, what can I do to show you my fondness?"

Susan squirmed beneath him, her bare belly rubbing over his slick one, "But it takes you awhile to...to.. you know."

Caspian could feel the heat in Susan's skin, could tell she wanted his attention, but always she would draw away from it when the pleasure wasn't a mutual thing.

"That does not mean I cannot do something for you," nuzzling at Susan's face before kissing her lightly.

"Then you could hold me," turning her head aside.

"Come now," whispering into Susan's ear, "I can hold you anytime. Do you not want something of me?"

Susan tried to roll over under him, to hide, but Caspian pressed her shoulder with a palm, keeping her flat on her back, "Just hold me. That's enough for me."

"Nonsense," buoyant mood travelling south as he tried to puzzle these odd reactions out, "do not play coy Susan. I can tell you want something, just tell me."

"I just want you to hold -"

"Stop it. Now. I do not tolerate lying Susan, you know that, so stop," trying to keep himself from snapping at her. This had happened too many times and he was sick of it. "You are not a blushing virgin Susan, I should know best, I have seen to it often enough - I tire of that game it is not as alluring as many women think!"

"Maybe its because I don't want anything! Get - get off of me!" small balled up fists pounded on his shoulders.

Allowing her to slip away Caspian just 'stared' in her direction, uncomprehending. Adjusting his trousers, Caspian got up, following Susan to her desk where she was sitting, working frantically. Work was what she always was turning to - and she had said ihe/i was addicted to the daily toil.

Looming over Susan, he reached for her wrist, pinning it down, "This is insane. Stop it."

"Stop what? I satisfied you, what more do you want? I'm busy now!" waspish and defensive.

Gritting his teeth, "Damn your being 'busy'! What in the name of the powers is wrong with you?" it started off quiet, he'd tried to keep his temper, but the volume of his voice escalated.

"...Nothing."

Yanking her to her feet, kicking the chair away in the same smooth motion, Caspian pulled her into him, "That is a lie. There is something wrong, and has been! I am becoming tired of handling you when you are like this. Just - just tell me what is wrong! I cannot take much more of it."

Susan was shaking in his arms, and Caspian was sure he'd pushed her too far, but begged himself for patience. Running the backs of his fingers over her cheek, Caspian tilted her face up, wishing right now more than anything that he could see her expression, gauge her reaction. Thumb trailing over Susan's chin, lingering over the little dip there, before moving up to her lips.

"Tell me," voice low, as soft as when he would calm a frightened horse when it was being trained.

From head to toe, Susan gave a firm twitch, then, "You raped me."

That made even less sense to him than her behaviour. But she said it like it was the root of it all. So, Caspian waited, trying to find how that was wrong.

When no further input was forthcoming, "So?"

"And that's the problem - now excuse me I'm sure I've got some work with my name on it," before slipping out of his embrace.

Catching her arm, "Talk to me."

"I can't - you'll never understand, you won't even try. It's not 'Telmarine' enough to try and grasp the fact that you hurt me. That you violated me! That doin' that was wrong!" Susan fought the grip, but it was only half-hearted.

Takes several deep breaths trying to see her standpoint, this whole being blind thing made him see vulnerability and dependency in a whole new light. But it was difficult to cope with often. Stepping closer to Susan, attempting to come up with something that she'd understand, "It is not wrong to be dominated by a man."

"Yes it is," it came back quick.

Now how to dissuade her of that notion? "No, it is not. There is nothing wrong in being dominated by someone with a stronger will or position of power. It is normal, it establishes the place and role you fill. Not only that but the continued affirmation of that gives you structure and points of.. reference, a sense of security."

"Security? I don't - are you stupid? Caspian, I don't, it doesn't make me feel safe or secure - it makes me feel the exact opposite!" Susan was holding him now, as though she were using him as an anchor despite her claims that he wasn't a source of comfort. "I mean - would you submit to my will?"

Now that Caspian had to think about, he actually didn't like being tied up that much, but if it was Susan doing it he could go along with it, so with a shrug, "Of course. In the right situation." Fiddling with a bit of her hair, Caspian asked, "Do you trust me now?"

"Most of the time," as she huddled against him.

"Then we shall work on that. When I can see."

Susan drew away from him a step, "Whatever."

"As for now, tell me what you want," keeping hold of her hand, Caspian raised it to his mouth, flicking his tongue over the tip of a finger.

Huffing, "To be left alone!"

Shaking his head, "Not acceptable."

A tiny stomp from her foot, "Then tell me what you want me to want!"

The answer was surprisingly simple and something he hadn't realized, "Me."

"I don't understand."

Caspian cleared his throat, "Fine - I want you to want pleasure. I want you to tell me what you like."

"When you hold - "

"Please, not the same damn line over and over again! Try something else," coming close to pleading. It was all so tiring.

Caspian imagines she probably looks away, cheeks bright pink, an attempt at hiding, "Nothing."

"Horseshit. Accept the gifts given. accept the fact that your body craves me and that you crave me just as strongly. It is upsetting and maddening how you fight it so much," gesturing, "Why bother? You already know you belong to me," and he knew he belonged to her (but he wouldn't let her know - not without a fight), "so go along with it. Relax, enjoy this."

She stayed turned away, her wrist rotated in his grasp, "I like it when you kiss me. I like it when you tell me I'm yours..."

"And?" relief washing through him - progress! Finally!

A tiny cry, "I don't know! Please... please I'm just not.. comfortable with this...!"

Sighing, Caspian grabbed Susan up in his arms, putting her over his shoulder too fast for her to protest, "That is unfortunate, because you will be getting comfortable with it. And you will like it. Now," placing her on the bed carefully when he bumped the end of it with his shins, Caspian knelt before her, "take my hand and put it where you want it," as he held it out in the air.

Eventually Caspian felt Susan take his hand, and then it was placed on her cheek. Definitely not what he had in mind, but as a starter it would do. Slowly Caspian explored the planes of her face with his fingertips, stroking, and soothing. Her lashes were long feathers, and her finely arched brows were soft short little velvet brushes. Susan's nose was abit funny, but he'd always liked how it would scrunch up as she laughed. Actually this was quite nice Caspian mused, but still he needed to steer this in a better direction.

"This is a start, but Susan, you must do better now, show me where you want me to touch you," firm but soothing. He had to be cautious, Susan had given him a large key to a locked trove, but there were traps and pitfalls for the unwary. So, she needed guiding, and he couldn't rush, otherwise he'd muck up this chance at showing her exactly what was what. And then he'd have to break her of it, instead of helping her past this, this issue. Which wasn't tolerable, because her fire was much of what he liked about Susan.

"Right now? Isn't - isn't this enough?" sighing into his palm as she turned her face into it.

"Yes right now," dragging his thumb over her bottom lip.

There was an audible swallow, then Susan took his hand and then a hesitation before she lay it over one of her breasts.

Tweaking a nipple lightly, "Good, good. Take my other hand and put it somewhere else."

Instead of what he expected - which would have been her other breast - Susan placed it atop her thigh. Now that was serious progress, and his body was stirring hungry to taste of Susan, but that was not what was to be. At least for the moment. Pushing Susan to lay back, Caspian crawled onto the bed, kneeling over her as he massaged in circular sweeps with varying pressures. Soft panting filled his ears, and Caspian bit back a grin, for he could up the ante now.

"Susan, now tell me where you want me to kiss you," voice husky.

"K-kiss?" it was uncertain and breathy.

"Yes, tell me where you want my mouth, my lips, my tongue," leaning in closer murmuring into her ear. "In this I am yours to command."

"Mouth," it came out as a squeak because Caspian pinched her nipple before taking the sting away with a gentle roll of his thumb.

"Are you certain?" he wasn't above teasing her to the choice he wanted, making sure the back of his hand stirred the air next to the heat between her legs as he massaged her thigh.

Susan was actually quite sensitive, Caspian had not taken the time to explore her quite like this, and now he wished he had. Not many women were this responsive when they were experienced. Then again, all of Susan's experience was whatever he'd given her. Repeated the little tickle near her sex, Caspian prodded, "Are you certain you wish me to kiss your mouth? There are so many other places..."

"L-like where?" the stuttering was sweet.

Caspian was amazed he could have such an effect on her so quickly, but his male pride was happy for it, "Your breasts," demonstrating on one by drawing a peak into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, then releasing it, "Your stomach," which took a bit of maneuvering while still maintaining his other caresses, and there he lay open mouth sucks and a few laps of his tongue. Caspian's voice lowered even farther, into a hoarse rumble, "Or anywhere else you like."

[REDACTED TO BE FFN POLICY COMPLIANT. The real chapter, uncensored, is on AO3.]

Strength fleeing his arms, Caspian fell atop Susan, and he dragged her with him as he rolled to his side. Panting they lay tangled for a bit, Caspian fondling one of her bountiful globes in his hand, enjoying the slippery skin rubbing against the callous of his palms.

"I really am a whore," it was so soft Caspian came close to not catching it.

"No you are not," trying to put force behind it, but he was just so damnably tired after that much play. They'd have to do this more often.

"Yes I am," pushing at his hand were his fingers were twisting and tweaking the pert nipple there.

Sighing, "Why?"

"What?"

"Tell me why you are a whore then? What makes you a whore?" Silence. Grunting, Caspian moved, tucking his chin over her shoulder, "Because you enjoyed that?"

"Yes."

"I enjoyed it - am I whore?"

That gained him a shocked laugh, "Certainly not!'

"So, I am not a whore, and I enjoyed that. Quite a lot I may add. In fact," nuzzling at her neck, "in a little bit I could stand to do it again."

Muttered, "Of course you could."

"You are a whore, but I am not - for liking the same thing?" Shaking his head, "That is absurd. As you are so fond of saying 'absolute drivel'."

Susan burrowed back into him, as though using him as some shield, "It's a sin, and in the Bible that means that you go to Hell. And, and it means I'm a whore."

"I do not know what this 'Bible' is, but it sounds terrible. And silly actually, especially since you say it has something in it about a man and wife not being able to take pleasure in each other." Snorting, "It is quite laughable. And you say that I am not a whore, and that then I am not sinful, and that then I am not going to this hell, but you are? This makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. Or does it to you?"

"When you put it like that - no," soft.

"Then discard those strange notions."

Susan was ready for that, and pinned him with one, "I will if you will discard yours then."  
Stiffening, "And what of my ideas that are strange?"

"Needless beatings, shoving me aside, and that women have no place but being controlled," it was rattled off quickly.

"Have I beaten you any time recently?" pausing, "Other than when you ask me to?"

"...No..." wiggling around, which made Caspian suck in a breath, he was still buried inside her.

"Do I neglect you?"

"Not now, but when you can see again, you will," Susan entwined her fingers with his.

"Then I shall.. try not to," rubbing his cheek against hers. "And do I not allow you fairly free reign? Susan, how much to I let you do? Even though I know," there he had to stop. Because a sudden stabbing pain in his gut frightened him. Caspian couldn't lose her, yet he kept enabling Susan to do those things that could lead up to it.

"Caspian, we'll figure something out," and she was easing his fears, where not a moment ago he was easing hers.

"As you say," whispering thickly, holding her tight. It was all he could think of to put in front of the words 'I love you' that almost snuck out.


	17. Chapter 17

Susan felt bad for leaving him, especially when he was sprawled out like so, and arm reached out for where she'd lay, the other over his belly button. Getting dressed as quietly as she could, Susan paused once more, kneeling at the side of the bed, just watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. Running the pads of her fingers over his stubbled jaw, Susan smiled to herself. He'd won out of course about the shaving, and his offer to shave her once he could see again had been more than just a touch shocking. after all she'd wanted to know - what did she have that he would shave? His response had been.. odd to say the least. And she had no clue how he'd managed to con her into a promise to 'try it out' later. Caspian would want another shave soon, but she frankly liked it where it was right now, just a few days long, a bit past the rough stage. The contrast felt good when he'd kiss her.

"Errands again?" she hadn't realized he was awake.

Leaning over, kissing him because it had become natural, "Yes."

He huffed, lifting his head up and taking off his eye cover, and opening his eyes (which looked normal but so far he'd said he'd only been able to see vague blurs) so he could look at her, "Why do you leave for them so often? Every few days, I would almost say like clockwork, but no one ever tells me the time. Why do you go so long? Should they not only take a few hours? Or do you do it to torture me?" Blinking he sat up, pinning her with his obviously unfocused gaze, "Have I done something to anger you? Is that why? Or is it.. is it that you are disgusted with me for - for this?" waving a hand at his face.

Catching Caspian's wrist, she kissed his palm, "There's a lot of things that need to be done, and so I do them. I'm trying to do the things that you feel should be done in caring for your people." Begging him to understand, though Susan couldn't give him all the information, he'd fly into a rage if she did, "I'm trying really hard Caspian to fulfill their needs and yours. Please try and understand that. I'd... I'd really rather just stay right here with you to tell the truth, not go and do these things - "

"What sort of things, tell me!"

"Caspian, please just trust me, okay? Please? I won't do anything to endanger you or the Narnians, not ever," promising him that at least.

He cupped her cheeks, "And yourself? What if what you are doing is dangerous to you?"

"Taking a walk outside is dangerous Caspian, getting into a tub is dangerous, riding a horse - any kind, be it Horse or horse - is dangerous," it was so hard to ease him when Caspian was like this.

"Why do you not tell me?" raking those long fine hands through his hair, "Mph - does Glenstorm know? Does he approve at least?"

"Yes, and you'll have to be satisfied with that Caspian, please just trust us, and when you're back up to a hundred percent - then you can take over fully once more, I swear," resting her cheek on his thigh.

Caspian's face was so unguarded lately, maybe because he couldn't see others and so he must be unaware of how he was looking down at her. It was full of a longing need that she couldn't put name to, or was afraid to. He was right though, sometimes Susan stayed away longer than necessary, just to be free of him. To be free of the strangeness he radiated now, and how all she wanted to do was respond to it. But he was still so angry sometimes, but most of it seemed directed at himself, and not her. Susan just couldn't think about any of it too much or she'd go mad. Having taken care of Caspian so much, being in his presence in a way she'd never been before, Susan was almost becoming comfortable here. Really comfortable. And with the thought that Caspian would never let her go, and that she would be his forever.

That was frightening.

Calloused fingertips were tracing her face, making her sigh, it was how he 'saw' now, but the touch was so soft and not something Susan ever thought Caspian was capable of, that it almost brought tears to her eyes sometimes. Mostly thought it just made her feel uncomfortable - because Caspian wasn't nice, and yet he was more so to her than anyone ever had been before. In very strange ways though. Would Harry Tildsten have killed to keep her safe? Not even remotely likely. Or would Harry have given her something made by his own hands, something for her to use, just because he felt that it would look nice on her? Probably not. There were a lot of simple things that Caspian did that at first blush looked like nothing at all, but upon examination implied strange and scary things, things that were also wonderful.

Mostly though lately, he just thrilled and terrified her.

No longer did Susan feel towards him as she should a captor or a rapist or a violator. She had killed for him. Not for the Narnians. But for Caspian. Susan, good, sweet, kind, upright and moral, Susan Pevensie - had killed. In cold blood. With a gift he'd given her. To save him. It was easy to admit she needed him when it had come down to the wire, but now that things were somewhat calmer, could Susan really trust that emotion? And still Caspian's fingers went about memorizing her face.

"You will tell me eventually what it is that you have been doing," it wasn't a request and it wasn't a command but somewhere in between.

Leaning up, Susan kissed Caspian, distracting him from his line of questioning. Susan wasn't sure she could ever tell him, because if he found out he'd have to do something, but she wasn't sure what. So, Susan changed the subject in a way Caspian never seemed to notice as that.

Clothes discarded quickly, and Caspian was kissing her all over. Why did he seem so set on her pleasure so often? But even then Susan sighed, spreading her thighs and her lips on her own, knowing he had better things to do with those dexterous hands than keep her open.

[REDACTED]

XXXXXXXXX

Luis was walking along with other Horses, the only difference was that Susan was riding him. To her left there were wagons converted to sleighs hauling repaired weapons and clothes and supplies. Shifting forward in the saddle, Susan debated taking a catnap. She was tired after all, and this shipment was late due to her having lain with Caspian a last time. With a thick swallow, Susan tried to not think of it as having made love, but it was hard not to. Not when Caspian had acted like that, like she was the only thing he wanted to touch, to be with.

"You're troubled Su," Luis gave her a mild look, a blue eye rolling back.

Tugging the hood of her cloak up further, "Not really."

He tossed his head, mane shaking off a bit of ice crystals, a large snort exhaling steam, "Well then. I'm here when you decide you are."

Feeling guilty atop her already heavy confusion, "What's love do you think?"

Luis froze a moment, a leg in mid air, then was placed carefully through the snow, cracking through the ice there, "Interesting question."

"I used to think I knew what it was, but now I'm not sure anymore," staring off into the distance.

"What did you believe it was before?"

Weak laughter, "Wedding bells, white dresses, and black suits with ties, chaste kisses and babies. Doing the laundry and changing dirty nappies, making dinner and breakfast. Sending the husband out with a good lunch. Being...being 'proper.'" Leaning back, "Being exactly what you're told to be, no room for anything else. I wanted to go to university, but nice middle class girls don't do that. Well, some do, but not in the Pevensie family. Probably because it costs too much, not because it's not 'proper'. At least that's what I think."

"What's 'university'?"

"A school of higher learning, I wanted to become a historian you know," stretching her legs out, standing in the stirrups for a moment, then sitting back down gingerly so as not to jostle Luis too much. "Any book I could find on history, be it China or the Americas, all of it - I read so much that sometimes it felt like my head would pop. I wish I had books to read here, I miss it. It's part of why I go over the orders so much I suppose, why I work so much on the paper end of things. Paper has a scent you know, a lovely scent, a little dry, a little dusty, a lot warm, and just... papery."

"What does love have to do with this Susan?"

Crossing her arms, Susan frowned, "That's just the thing. I don't know anymore. Sometimes, it's like a dream Luis, like none of it was ever real. Then, then I'll remember something clear as day. Like Pete hugging me when I'd go to him with a nightmare, and he'd stay up all night to protect me from bad dreams. Or Lucy crawling into my lap when she was three, holding up her broken dolly. I fixed it for her." Putting her gloved hand to her mouth, Susan tried not to cry, "Or making Turkish delight for Edmund, and I'd thought I'd hidden it really well, but the next day when I went to go get it and give it to him - it was gone. So I went to him, telling him how sorry I was for losing his birthday present, but he smiled and offered me the last piece. He'd been saving it for later. The little devil had gone and found it..." Huffing, "And others when it's only just the vaguest of shadows, I think that I sprang fully formed that day next to that pool of water."

Susan tipped her head up towards the silver blue gray sky, "Luis, I know I loved my family, but what if they weren't real? Does that mean I know nothing in the end? And then...then who am I? Am I some... thing... some construct... meant to serve those around me, searching for some kind of meaning, some kind of anchor?"

The Horse was quiet, his ears rotating this way and that as he thought. Venturing, "Even if a fact isn't proven or something that can be proven, but - but Susan, if you felt love for them, then they were real. At least to you. And," a full body twitch, "and whoever, whatever you were, it matters in that you are you now. If you know nothing for certain Susan, know that I love you, you are my friend, and you are my Princess. But first and foremost, you are my friend, more than anything else. My heart swells when you laugh, and when you cry it turns heavy, and all I wish is to carry your burdens and take them from you."

Sighing, "Thank you, Luis. That helps, honestly."

For a long time they were quiet and Susan set those fears aside, and tried to figure out what it was that she felt for this place, for its people, and mostly what she felt for Caspian. Because he had become her anchor, and she'd gone above and beyond lengths she'd ever thought herself capable of. And the god awful truth was - she'd do it all again. Over and over if necessary. So many frightening thoughts, and it was a very real fear for Susan, a very real fear that she had gone from needing to help Caspian to needing him, to.. something else entirely. If that's what it was, if that's what the feeling really was - then god help her, for everything else had abandoned her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Not an errand this time, this time it was more, and Susan's blood was pounding in her temples. What was she doing? This was insane, well and truly, all quite mad. Yet there she was, sneaking through the small wooden gates to the tiny fortification, bow in hand, arrow knocked - and a bevy of troops on her heels. At first this place had looked like it would simply be a camp like any other, but reports of it slowly being fortified had alerted Susan that it was time for another of those 'decisive' actions that Caspian was on about so often. And like an idiot - she was leading.

But Pylonus had gotten the news while she was out and about cheering the troops that this now had a palisade, trenches, and a small lookout tower of wood was being built. That wouldn't do at all, and something rose up in Susan just like the day she'd received word of Caspian's capture, and took control. Orders were cracked out in a rapid-fire stream, while some distant part of Susan thought that just maybe Caspian was rubbing off on her too much. Music wafted on the air, and sentries were taken out by gryphons, the hapless Telmarines throats torn out. Why no one else had thought of using them for that purpose, Susan didn't know. Now, those with hooves had burlap sacking on them to deaden the noise and were moving along going about their bloody work. And Susan was one of them.

"My Lady," Pylonus slipped up next to her, his voice soft, "there is a Telmarine aristo leading them it appears. A horse bears the mark of Lord Sopesbian's son - Inigo."

The name sent a thrill through Susan, "Inigo? Find him, he may be useful to us."

Inigo - the name Caspian had uttered in a resigned anger. What was the story there? Other than the obvious that the son of Sopesibian had been his captor. And, even better, Caspian had said that Inigo's support or lack of could hinder Miraz. Definitely needed to capture him, make it look like he'd defected even... A small twisting of her lips, something that wasn't very nice, but was very satisfied - like the cat who'd eaten the canary, graced Susan's face.

In that moment she was probably very Telmarine for the kind of cunning necessary to come up with that wasn't very Narnian. Nor very nice middle-class English. Because Susan was tempted to extract the pound of flesh from him. Shaking that off for now, Susan waited for word sitting in the middle of the camp as muffled death spread from the outside in. It was hard to stay blank though when a dwarf, covered in blood not his own, passed by on his way to another tent.

The rule she'd enacted for these raids kept though, only one in five was to be killed most times. Though from the numbers she'd received from Grilf, it looked like the minotaur had gone a bit slap-happy and killed half. Either way it sent a message: we can come for you any time - be wary. It scared the villagers, the common people, making them fractious and difficult for the Lords to keep control of. And then in a few villages, a few tiny hamlets, supplies had arrived by night, in bags all bearing a large 'X' on them.

Caspian the Tenth had not forgotten his people, but would kill the soldiers who followed Miraz and the Lords. It was a careful campaign, one that included slight of hand and discreet timing. Some of the Narnians didn't like it, but it didn't matter - the Telmarine people were Narnians too, and Susan would make sure they were treated as such. Soldiers were fair game, but the commoners were to be kept as safe as possible. And of course that didn't always work, a report she'd received for one of these nighttime death sprees told her that over five or six villages that were bunking large quantities of soldiers had been fully subjected to fire. As a purported leader of this, Susan couldn't tolerate that and had punished those responsible harshly. They'd been sent for manual labor until they repented for the sin of killing innocents.

Despite the fact that she understood - for centuries and particularly the last few, the Telmarine peasants had been... Cruel to say the least, to the Narnians when they were stumbled upon. And that builds up a lot of anger, a lot of distrust, and having such easy targets must have been too much for those captains and their men to handle. But Susan wouldn't allow it, even if Caspian might.

"My Lady," Pylonus was at her elbow.

"Don't call me 'lady' out here Pylonus, secrecy is the word, remember that please," chiding him gently.

He bowed quickly, "Yes m'Lord, I shall lead you to his room, but there's a complication. He has a woman with him - which I thought you may find change whatever your decision is about him."

Nodding, "Yes of course, lead on."

Slipping into the tent behind Pylonus, Susan was drawn up short. The man laying there could have been Caspian's older brother, there were similarities, but for a goatee and long side burns. All of it was neatly trimmed. That was definitely a way to describe the man before her - neat, well oiled, not at all rough around the edges like Caspian. But what shook Susan was how protectively he was curled around a woman, she wasn't very pretty but all the bruises on her were quite faded. The girl was smiling in her sleep, as though she were in the safest place in the world. And Inigo - he too was smiling, though there was a worried crease between his brows.

Turning away Susan couldn't look on any longer.

"Tie them both up, pack their belongings, and bring their horses," there was a tremor to her words, it was easy to see the couple as herself and Caspian, "we take them with us. Unharmed for now."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Susan toed him with a boot, not being cruel, just not being kind, "Wake up."

He grunted and jerked, eyes wild, then narrowed.

Seeing that she had his attention, "Good. I'm going to take your gag off. You can yell but it won't do you any good."

They were in a fallback trench, Pylonus' crew standing guard, and Susan had some questions that needed answering. Inigo's gaze skittered around for a split second and Susan knew when he'd found what he was looking for. His girl was behind her, tied up, but far more gently than him. His relief was palpable, but quickly hidden.

"She's unharmed," reassuring him, yet allowing him to tack on anything he wanted to that statement, though Susan wouldn't let the woman be hurt even for Inigo's crimes. Tugging off his gag, "Now, tell me, what are you doing out here? Do you not have a Holding to govern at this time?"

Inigo glowered, "Are you one of Caspian's lieutenants?"

"Answer my question Inigo," sitting back on her haunches staying cool. There's no way she'd torture him, but if she bluffed her way around made it look like she was so calm, so collected, like she had not a worry in the world - then he'd think her position was vastly superior to his. Susan wasn't above mind games. That and her time here in a weaker position taught her some things about power plays that she'd never understood when mentioned in history: weakness can be a strength, and apparent strength and will is just as potent (if not more so) than actual force. Let his mind chew over his worst fears, let him paint her as capable of them, and she wouldn't have to lift a finger. Nor would she have to have anything distasteful or wrong done to him.

"Miraz killed my father," the man was fighting to stay calm - strange, was she so scary, or was it his fears that made her so?

"So? Infighting amongst the Lords is commonplace. It's why Caspian needs to rule, as rightful Heir he's the only one with the training and strength to keep you dogs in your places," drawing out a honey nut oat ball and taking a bite of it. "You reason isn't good enough," gesturing with the ration, "tell me the truth."

Susan almost added 'or else' but that sounded cheesy even in her own head. That and her studious act of ignoring the presence of the woman seemed to unman Inigo some.

"He killed my father and I lost hold of my captive, if Miraz found out, then he would kill Yasmina," licking his lips.

"Death comes to us all, especially when Miraz holds the reins. Would it be so terrible for Miraz to kill her?" now that was genuine curiosity on her part. What was so horrible about this man that even his loyal subjects quaked? She'd need to know so she could counteract some of his influence. At least if Inigo gave it to her straight, then Susan would make sure he knew Yasmina would stay safe after Caspian was through with him.

He shook his head, "Whose son are you that you do not know of his excesses? Even amongst us he is a terror. Are you fool or foolhardy that you think death at his hands would come easy? Yasmina would be tortured for years, and I would either watch or be forced to join her!"

Susan was surprised - he thought her a boy? Well that was the reason for the getup, but even so, it was meant to only fool the eye when absolutely necessary.

"I'm not from around here," shrugging. "Is she so valuable to you?"

"Please, I know Caspian is harsh, and that no mercy is to be granted for me, but please - she is innocent in this! I fled with her, it is my only hope..." and Susan could see how much that cost him.

How much would it cost Caspian to say something like that? But he never would, not really. It was obvious how much he loved the woman behind her.

"You come to your enemy for mercy?"

"Even if you kill her it will not be as what would happen otherwise," struggling for pride and strength. "But please - she is innocent, I will do anything tell you all I know - so long as it purchases her freedom. Please?"

"I thought love was a disease?" nailing his issue right on the head.

At that Inigo recoiled, looking away, face dark with shame, "To some. To Caspian it is. To many, yes, to very many it is, yet many of us have it anyway." Shining black eyes pinned her, fever bright, "Is it wrong for a mother to love her son? Is it wrong for the son to love his mother? His father? No! It is not, then how is that," jerking his chin towards Yasmina who was just waking up at the volume of his voice, "a disease? Loving her has been the only good spot in my life. Kill me, I do not care, just - do not do as Miraz would. Caspian is your Lord? Is he not? You are one of his lieutenants?" Susan nodded finally, for the young Lord was becoming frantic, impassioned, "Then you know him, you know he is not needlessly cruel! Not at heart! I have wronged him, yes, but I did it for her."

Yasmina was struggling behind her, and Susan glanced at the woman, then with a sigh, moved over to her, "I have not hurt him." Again with a 'not yet' hanging in the air - even if Susan wasn't likely to, Caspian would. Taking hold of Yasmina's hands, "I can't untie you right now, but I will. Would you like a moment alone with Inigo though? To talk?"

The kindness wasn't for the man, but for this woman who was frantic to get to him. It reminded her too closely of her fight to get to Caspian.

Her eyes were frightened wondering if this was some trick, but she plucked up enough courage to nod.

Taking off the gag, Susan got up and walked away for a few steps, listening, but allowing them the illusion of privacy.

"Inigo..."

"Hush, I shall do what needs to be done to keep you safe, Caspian is an honourable man," was it her imagination that made Inigo's voice shake so slightly with fear?

"Life means little without you, he shall torture you," it was heartbroken.

Susan hugged herself, shivering.

"I did the same to him Yasmina, it is his place to do that to me, and so long as he does not punish you, I would die at peace," if only Caspian were capable of such selflessness.

It was convenient to forget how hard he worked for the Narnians, not just for his throne.

"I would die without you," tiny whisper.

Pressing her face into her hands, Susan tried to shut it out.

"Please you cannot! You carry more than just my love," pleading.

"Why did you have to torture him then? Why not just have taken me and fled in the first?"  
Silence, "Because Father needed me. And - and if I had not done something to him before delivery, Miraz would suspect too many things..."

A bit of shuffling, scooting so they could get closer, Susan turned to look just enough to make sure they weren't trying anything. That one sight broke Susan though, seeing Yasmina's head buried in his neck, his chin tucked over her crown, an armless embrace. Shuddering, shaking, sick to her stomach, Susan almost fled the scene.

It was all too familiar.


	18. Chapter 18

Pylonus sat with her at the fire, both of them leaning against Luis' flank. His rich horse-smell was as comforting as Caspian's was.

"My Lord," Pylonus stumbled on the honourific, trying to keep with her request, "what will you do with them?"

Susan sighed, gulping down the rapidly cooling tea in her mug, "I'm not sure. They came to us for fear of their own laws. What should I do? I don't know. I truly don't." Looking into the bottom of a cup, Susan remembered the saying 'truth is found at the bottom of a bottle'. Well right now Susan could use some of that. "Have they been fed yet?"

"Yes," a nod, though the captain didn't look too pleased with that.

"Pylonus, why do you frown so?"

A grunt, then he tucked his furry legs under him, "Because they're prisoners, and what would they do to a Narnian? What have they not done to us before? Yet they rest easy."

"Strife between the two halves won't ever stop if we try and extract vengeance upon each Telmarine we cross Pylonus," turning her face to gauge him. Maybe he needed to be moved for a time from the front line, to cool his heels. To maybe ease up his inner turmoil over the Telmarines. "You must rise above it, and of course stop any hurts from happening, but at the same time use as little force as necessary."

"Is that why Caspian rotates the troops so often now? He didn't before," reaching into his hip pouch for a small metal flask, uncapping it and taking a swig.

"Telmarines are Narnians too Pylonus, they've just been led very far astray," laying a hand upon the thick forearm, its corded muscles there twitching under the soft touch of her glove. "I know - well I can't know, I didn't live through it, but I'm aware of much that's happened. So is Caspian. It's time for things to change Pylonus, that's what Caspian's promised, and that's what will happen. But we all have to work very hard for it. That, and Miraz won't leave us a choice I don't think. Not you, not me - not anyone. If the Narnians, both those of Telmarine upbringing, as well as yours, are to be free we must fight. War is folly, idiocy, but Miraz has forced the hands around him, even those who would bear him some loyalty fear him. I don't know what that man is like Pylonus, and I don't want to know - but I must find out what I can. And I'll not hurt someone who's not taken part in it all. Not if I can help it."

"So the girl will be spared? Fully spared?" Pylonus sounded more tired than anything.

"Of course," nodding. "If you were in my position Pylonus, what would you do? Would you kill her? And why - what has she done? What crime has she committed against the Narnians but be born?"

"And what of that steaming pile of -" catching himself before finishing the crudity, Pylonus started over, "And what of that young Lord then?"

Tugging off her gloves Susan chafed her fingers trying to get them warmer - Narnia was really cold in winter, "That's what I'm trying to figure out. He may actually prove useful, it's just at what? And how to use him?"

"So His Highness won't kill him?"

Sharply looking at him, "I didn't say that now did I?" Then deciding to try something, to test the waters of the Narnian mindset, "Is your sword still useful?"

"Well of course, it's a good sword, and belonged to my father before me," shrugging, not noticing that Susan had a purpose to that question.

"And what of your breastplate? Does it still serve a purpose well enough?"

"My Lord, my breastplate is of good use, it was made by a dwarf - it is of fine make, and I am glad to have it," another drink from his flask.

Nodding in agreement, "Yes, I can see it's proved of good use for you, just as your sword has. Now, what of your cloak? Is it not a vital piece of equipment that allows you to stay warm and thus fight better?"

"Yes," but it came out a bit startled as Susan nabbed his flask, wanting some for herself. It was hogwash that women didn't drink and it was too cold to not share.

Flashing him a smile and hiding her wince as the bitter grain alcohol burned its way down, "Now, would you throw any of those things away?"

"Most certainly not!"

"But," prodding, "you could survive without them? Yes?"

"Well, yes but -"

"But life is easier so long as they fulfill your needs? So you won't of course discard them," passing his drink back to him. "And that is what that Lord is. A tool, a piece or equipment, something useful at the moment. I shall see what needs he can fulfill Pylonus, and then he will be used until he is useful no longer. Does that satisfy you?"

The satyr just stared at her for a moment, then laughed, "Yes it does. And you - you are quite good at persuasion. No wonder His Highness fled your presence so often!"

Jaw dropping, "What? Fled?"

"Well," coughing a bit, then offering a drink, which she took with numb fingers, "you are a strong... you are strong willed, and that is not something I am sure he's used to at all. Otherwise I can think of no other reason he would protest so much being returned to you during... various occasions," smirking.

Taking a long pull, "Gahh! That stuff is swill Pylonus, how do you drink it?" Wiping her mouth, Susan just snorted, feeling pleasantly warm and tingly on the inside, "You're saying he avoided me? Really?"

Pylonus actually snorted at her, "I was merely jesting, nothing more. Trying to find humour in his behavior during one of his many injuries."

"I swear that man's a magnet for trouble sometimes," groaning. Then fearing that made her sound as though she didn't care for the Narnian, "But what of you? Have you been injured as well? How is it healing if so?"

He waved, "Don't trouble yourself, that man is a magnet as you say, he's the one who always takes the brunt of an attack, they know who he is because he's the only human amongst us. Its as though he wears a sign that says 'Hey I'm Prince Caspian - Kill Me Now' or some such."

It probably wasn't as funny in reality but Susan couldn't help the laughter bubbling up. She needed the release, there was just so much going on now in her life. And laughter was certainly better than tears. Clutching her sides Susan giggled until she fell over, her head landing in Pylonus' furry lap.

Frowning down at her, "I believe you have had too much spirits."

"He always said I was spirited," giggling a bit more into her hand.

"Luis, I trust that you shall stand a good watch this evening?"

"Of course Pylonus, but it is good to hear her laughing."

A few blankets were being bundled up around Susan, and she still snorted a bit every few moments trying to regain her composure but apparently that stuff was far more potent than the little drams of whisky or bourbon she'd had on truly cold nights back home. Blinking owlishly, Susan watched distantly as she was made comfortable up against Luis, between his bulk and the fire, and Pylonus was off to see to something or other.

Huffing, Susan burrowed back into Luis after some time had passed and she'd not fallen asleep, "Luis?"

"Yes Susan?"

"Do you think I should tell Caspian about Inigo?"

His large head swung around, velvety soft nose stirring her hair, "If you wish him to be of any use, the no. Not right away."

"Who? Inigo?"

"Inigo and Caspian," and Susan turned her face so that Luis could brush her cheek with that so incredibly wonderful nose, "Caspian will become focused on him, on prying information out of him, mad with his Telmarine urges. And Inigo of course will only serve the purpose of living in pain for a short time and then dying. You have more ideas that that, do you not?"

"Sometimes I don't know," stroking his head lovingly. "So I won't tell him, but where do I put Inigo then? I can't let him just.. wander around... and I'd need him close enough to -"

"The How is large, and not only that there's a workers camp not far, you know this Susan," a gust of moist air then he tipped his large head back looking at the snow covered trees around them. "You will find a solution, you always do. But, Susan - is that truly what bothers you?"

Wiggling around uncomfortably, Susan wanted to hide, "No."

"Tell me, I am here, you know I never judge," a shake of his head, silver mane flying in the air in strands like moonlight.

"Inigo and Yasmina," taking hold of one of the hanks of Luis' hair.

"What of the lovers?"

Flinching, "That's just it Luis. That's what they are - they love each other."

"So?"

Swallowing, "I don't know... I don't know Luis..."

"They remind you of anyone?" a nudge.

Mumbling, "Yes."

"Then so long as you notice that, for now it is well," and he became silent, her guardian and guide in the night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Under guard, a detail of ten minotaurs and her ever present sets of Birds and gryphons, Susan and her two prisoners made their slow way back to the How. Inigo's hands were tied to his saddle horn, his weapons taken from him, riding slump shouldered, but other than those things no one would know he was a captive. Yasmina was in one of the sleighs, comfortable but for Inigo's absence, Horses dragging the empty conveyances behind them. Snow was a steady problem, it was quite high, and Susan hated subjected the Horses to this, they really should be up in their mountain valleys safe from all this war. That's how everyone should be, safe. But it had finally clicked - no one was safe while Miraz ruled, not in the long run. What sort of monster would he have for a child if he were to stay on his captured throne? And how much would he conquer, what lands would he claim, and all the blood to be spilled to poison the soil - what of that?

No, Susan had come to grips with what this war meant in the long run, it wasn't about Caspian and his throne, and it had ceased to be that a long time ago. Nothing was so simple anymore. Not even her promise to herself to take care of him and heal him in hopes that he may help her. A journey that during the summer or fall would only take two days at most at leisurely paces was now taking quite a bit more than that. Caspian must be going mad right now, and Susan worried for him. Longed for him too if she was honest with herself.

This long time out here was forcing Susan to do thinking she hadn't wanted to ever be faced with. At one point she'd thought herself resigned with her fate here, but no she'd held out some slim hope - for something. Anything. Now it was gone, and Susan had to face things head-on. Taking a deep breath Susan clenched her hands, making her mind form the words really and truly. Narnia is home, she is never going back to England. England is a distant place, a distant time, and now all she can do is live this life. Shuddering, it was almost too much thinking that and believing it. Onto the second thing she must admit to - about Caspian.

Every time she started to form the words in her mind Susan stopped short of finishing the word 'love'. It just would not come.

Inigo interrupted her thoughts, "M'Lord, I beg a boon, please?"

Susan glanced his way, waving him up, and he kneed his mount enough for it to pick up it's pace. She was annoyingly thankful to him for his timely question, so much so she knew she'd probably grant him his request within reason.

Once they were alongside each other, "What is it?"

"Tell me, is Caspian well? Is he healing?"

That took her completely off guard, "Excuse me?"

Inigo looked away, "We were as brothers at one time, not Telmarine brothers, but as the High King and his siblings were according to the histories. Where one went, the other followed. We watched each other's backs. Please, tell me, is he well?"

"I don't see how it's any of your business, you did abandon him," shaking her head.

"What else was I to do m'Lord? I had my Father to think of, I had Yasmina's father to court for her hand, and I had to do it carefully, what would you have had me do? Abandon my family? My love?"

Grunting, "By your words he was your family too. Did he not deserve better than the treatment he gained at your hands?"

"As you say m'Lord, I was unkind to him in some eyes, in others - what I did was best for him," a bit of shifting, his saddle creaked, "as a preparation a way to toughen him up, and hopefully a way of sparing him some. To his food I added a concoction of nril berries, something that would after it'd built up in his system enough make him too weak to live through the torture of his uncle. That was all I could do, and as is if Miraz had found out - I would be a walking corpse. As would Yasmina."

"Nril berry? What does it do?"

Shrugging, "It shuts down the body after reaching a certain point, vision tends to go first, then muscle control, then the mind, then you die. But it is very painless once it takes full effect."

"...How much does it take to kill?"

"Quite a bit, three, four weeks of exposure in the weak. In the strong, like Caspian, most likely five to seven. Why?"

"He's blind," picking at the fingertips of her gloves trying to make them more comfortable - she had a hangnail that was bothering her.

"Cranberry tea or juice," Inigo was eyeing her oddly like he was trying to puzzle something out. "Did no one know the symptoms? You should, and it the treatment of it. You are Telmarine."

Cocking her head, "No, I'm not."

"You do have odd colouring, like an Archenlander - I had a whore once who was from there, but her hair was red, and she told me my dark hair and colouring was strange to her. That is, when she did much talking," frowning now.

"I'm not Archenlander either," raising a brow at him. "Out with it, what do you want to know?"

"Whose son are you?"

"I am no man's son," laughing. He still hadn't figured it out.

"Interesting arrows," Inigo jerked his chin in the direction of her quiver. "I have one just like it. It was found in my camp. If you look amongst the things I brought, you will find it."

"Thank you then, for I've been trying to remember where I left it," not wanting to recall the way the sentry had fallen in that soft clatter onto the ground.

"No man's son, then what sort of son are you? A Son of Adam?" said like it would be absurd.

"Caspian is descended from a Son of Adam."

"So am I, as are a few others, but that is a bit different. Aslan abandoned this place a long time ago," musing quietly.

"You're relatives?"

"First cousins, yes. So, son of no man -"

Cutting him off, "I am no son at all."

He froze, eyes taking in what he was seeing and Susan knew what he'd find: petite, in men's clothing, armor, armed, and comfortable in it.

"You bear arms."

"When need be, yes."

"You wear armor."

"I find it helps keep my skin intact," starting to smile.

"What is your name then, son of no man?"

Grinning now, "Susan Pevensie. From a nice middle class home."

Now Inigo was looking at her very strangely indeed, "Susan? I thought I heard Caspian say such a name. I did not know he... favored boys. But, you are... comely I suppose. And this House Pevensie? I have never heard of it - is it outside Telmar?"

Laughing at him, "You could say that. And Caspian doesn't 'favor' boys at all, I should know. He demonstrates quite frequently his preferences."

Leading him around was actually quite fun. His reactions were interesting to say the least.

"But - but," eyes wide comically, "you carry weapons, you wear armor, the men call you 'my Lord' and 'my Liege,'"

"Yes this is true. They also call me 'Your Highness' and 'Princess.'"

Inigo swayed in the saddle, going white, "You are... you are female?

"Last time I checked, and last time I saw Caspian he made quite sure of it, he likes to do that you know - a husband's privileges and all that," giggling, and didn't even notice that she'd referred to him in such a manner. "You could ask him, and he'd tell you I'm sure, but then he'd kill you. But," sobering, "while I should kill you, I will not for now. You help me, and I'll see how I can help you Inigo."

"But - you are a woman! How can you help me? You have no power! you are a woman!" shaking his head, muttering, "A woman, she is a woman? A blasted woman? A woman?"

"Yes a woman, now can you stop that? You're actually going to fall off your horse if you're not more careful," reaching out to hold his elbow, bringing Luis closer, steadying him.

Wild eyed, Inigo whipped around to look at her, his mouth opening and closing, "By Aslan if the Council finds out!"

"Then they won't, now will they?" Susan's voice turned icy.

Inigo gulped, looked at her then back at Yasmina, then to her once more, "No." He took a deep breath, resignation settling over his features, "No, they shall not. Not from me, I give you my word."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Inigo's hands were still bound to the saddle, Susan wouldn't undo that precaution, but he rode beside her - it had been days since she'd seen the How, and she'd missed it. It was home now. Draughty, windowless, and stony, it was home. Five days away, and the great stone structure never looked so good.

"I had heard that it was large, but the scale," it was whispered.

Glancing at him, "You never saw it before the war?"

"No," head tipped back, "it is on no map, and few Telmarines venture this far out. It is... a no-man's land. Historically it is the only safe place for Narnians, and the few attempts by Telmarines searching for it were met with force or shunted aside. I am seeing something - something that has only been seen by one set of living Telmarine eyes in centuries. It is magnificent."

"Really? It just looks like a big heap of rock to me," trying to see what he saw. She liked it in summer - all the trees would be green and would embrace the stone lovingly, vines would make a lacy veil for it. Right now it looked like an ice-capped mountain more than anything. A very small one.

He moved his arm like he wanted to wave his hand at the expanse, "There is so much that could be done with it, catapults, cauldrons of oil, just the sheer numbers of ways this could be used as a weapon are astounding m'Lord. The size of it, the way each tier is spaced - on m'Lord Susan you have no idea it seems what I could do with a handful of artificers to this! Miraz's army would be ground to so much meaty pulp!"

Inigo was in paroxysms of ecstasy, and Susan had an idea of how she could use him.  
Smiling, "So far no one's thought of most of that, but there are plenty of other things that have been done, reinforcing, a few plans here and there..." making sure to tempt him.

Inigo almost bounced he was so excited, "Oh it would be nothing at all to draw up a few schematics for siege weapons, and ways to counter Miraz's! Haha! Oh wonder of wonders, then again," pausing in his mirth, "Caspian was never very good at that. Too forward thinking. It was why I was groomed to be his advisor you know, my mind was good for one thing and one thing only it seemed. His was of little use for that, he likes to come at things head on, or lightening fast strikes like a snake." He must have misinterpreted her look, "Not that he is not intelligent, please he is quite the opposite. But he does not think in terms that would serve sometimes to his benefit."

"Trust me, I know," raising a brow at him. It was hard not to like Inigo. He was so.. easy going, and he was the first Telmarine she'd met in person other than Caspian, and the two seemed so very different. She wondered at why that was, why was Inigo so cheerful and laid back, while Caspian was somber and quick to anger?

Inigo drew in on himself suddenly though, frowning, and the resemblance then to Caspian was eerie. It seemed as though he were trying to figure something out then with a grunt, "M'Lord Susan, I know you cannot guarantee my safety, and you must turn me over to your," he stumbled, as though the thought of Caspian wed was strange (and she thought it was too, truth be known), "husband but, may I have just.. just a bit of time with Yasmina before you do so? You have been, been nothing but kind to a man you should hate and most likely do, but please."

"I thought it wasn't very Telmarine to ask for things, only to order them done," neither saying yes nor no.

"I am at your mercy, and I am also grateful for what you have done so far, and it makes me hope that my requests do not fall upon deaf ears," jaw clenching and unclenching, "and I have done many things that are deemed inappropriate by social mores. But I have been overall a happy man for those transgressions, so what would it matter to do a few more?"  
Sighing, "You are my prisoner, and I do not wish to overstress Caspian, he does so much as is. Everything really and truly, he sleeps little, eats less, works endlessly. That is until I made him stop that some."

"You are a strong one indeed then to change him, he is so duty bound, so set in his ways, yet I still find it improbable that you have worked that sort of miracle."

"Change him? No I didn't change him at all, not one bit Inigo. He is still the same man he's always been, he just has figured out how to get what he wants, when he wants it," drawing Luis to a halt. Inigo of course followed suit. Giving her a curious look he waited as she mulled through what she wanted to communicate. Chewing her lip, "Inigo, I will let you spend your evenings with Yasmina so long as you do a few things for me."

The elation on his face was painful to see, "Anything you command m'Lord Susan."

"Firstly I want you to help design additions to the fortifications here, siege weapons and the like. Secondly I want the names of all the captains who are of sound mind tactically and what you know of their troop numbers and so forth," ticking the things off on her gloved fingers, "Thirdly I want all you know of the generals and their minds, of Miraz and I also.. I also wish to know of what countries lie past the borders here, and whether they are friendly or not. And what you know of them, how their customs function, what kinds of rulers do they have classically and the like."

He blinked rapidly, processing, "Well - of course, that should not be too hard. But, why trust my information? They are my countrymen after all."

"And if you could think far enough ahead, you'd realize that by killing a few you may be saving the rest," trying to point out that fact that so few seemed to see. "Miraz as King will only lead to privation for the people, death to the Lords, fear for their sons and daughters, and then it will travel Inigo. As far as Miraz can take it."

"Someone will have him killed if he becomes too troublesome," shrugging.

"And who would have had that power Inigo?" no she'd never tell him that Miraz hadn't killed Sopesbian. In the end Miraz truly had, but just not in the way Inigo thought.

"Well, Father I suppose - ah. Ah yes that would be a good reason for two who were supposed to be comrades would do such a thing," shaking his head. "Truth be known m'Lord Susan, I hate politics. I am not made for such cut throat dealings." A gusty sigh, "I am much like Mother I suppose. She was quite gentle, and was the only mother Caspian had after his own was executed."

"He said once he bore his mother's weakness," curious - here was a source that knew all of Caspian's life - twenty-two years of it. It was only the last year and a half that he'd been absent.

Inigo cocked his head in thought, rubbing his chin on a shoulder, "He would say something like that. That is Miraz talking, not him. But, I suppose so. He used to patch up the younger boys after they were beaten too much."

That was a shock to Susan.

Mouth dropping open, "But isn't that - forbidden?"

"Well yes, but he was very quiet about it. For the most part. He got caught once, and got fifty lashes for his troubles, I warned him," gaze going unfocused, "I was lucky I was not caught fixing him up myself. Though Father would not likely have beat me so harshly. Maybe only fifteen or twenty lashes. Miraz was always looking for a way to kill him, to break him in ways that the Council would approve of." Then Susan was pierced by something fierce in his eyes, something that was predatory, and it was a fight to not give a single inch, to be anything less than his superior, "The Council when, not if, when - they find out about you, you will be in danger. They will use you to break him. Do you understand? And if he was anyone but who he is m'Lord Susan - they would simply order he kill you in some simple accordance. But they fear him for some reason, and have for quite some time. Maybe the double dose of the High King's blood possibly, I do not know. And you will suffer as no human ever has, and he will have to stand witness."

Taking slow measured breaths Susan struggled for calm, she'd never believed it when Caspian warned her, but this, the animal ferocity, the raw blunt force of Telmarine ideology burning from Inigo's eyes was more terrifying than anything else she'd ever witnessed. Managing to stay calm somehow, "Is the Council so strong that their King couldn't bring them to their knees?"

"Simple answer? Yes," the intensity leaving him, "they are. It is a series of checks and balances. A King does not rule absolutely. Some foolishness of the High King Krispen to think to share out his power, to create the system. It worked for a time, but not long. Eventually human greed and lust took over, and now the King is little more than a watchdog, a thing to keep the Lords in some form of line."

"Why not just kill off the Lords?"

Barking laughter, "You say you are not Telmarine m'Lord but that is the most ruthless though I have ever heard uttered!"

Pursing her lips, "How so?"

"Root, tree, seed, leaves and all would have to be destroyed m'Lord. Woman, man, child, babe, bastards and whores alike - hundreds if not a few thousand would be put to the sword then to snuff out the Council fully," snorting. "You are Telmarine m'Lord. Whether you wish to believe it or not. We are a people of vengeance and honour, it is the only guise we have to hide our depravities, did you not know? Ask Caspian, he is the great historian. He would tell you as I have."

"Why not just kill off all the adult males?"

"And then the sons would be honourbound to replace them - and be even more ruthless in their weakening of the Throne," chuckling shaking his head this way and that, "be no fool m'Lord. Find other ways to cow them, to turn them against each other, for only when they are at each others throats does a King get much done."

By now the group had attracted much attention, and Moringdew was coming out and that wasn't good. Susan had to come up with some subterfuge about Inigo to keep him safe.  
"Inigo, do you have another name you use?"

"Well yes, I have a dearth of them, Inigo Alvaro Yago di Sopesbian," snorting, "my Father was fond of the sound 'o' at the end of things."

"Your Highness! You are safe!" Moringdew rushed up, and Susan feared for her legs, but the woman managed to come up close to her. Susan found herself being yanked from the saddle to be brought up in a hug. Never had she realized how strong the centaur was, but she had proof now. She was then scooted and thrust upon Morningdew's back, "Oh little one I am so glad you are safe, His Highness has been insufferable. Deceiving him about the time frame became impossible past a point. He's been trying to send out search parties, and threatening to go himself."

"How long does he think me gone?" wrapping her arms around Morningdew's waist. Luis was giving them a rather droll look, a bit peeved with the sudden loss of his mistress.

"Four days, that was the best we could do, I'm sorry," it as a sigh, and her heart was pounding in her chest. Then with a jerk, it seemed Morningdew finally noticed Susan's escort, "What is this?"

She was about to lie, but Inigo beat her to it, "By Aslan! A centaur, m'Lady your beauty has not been done justice in the history books. Please, my name is Alvaro Yago, but my use name is Inigo, as Father was quite fond of 'o' sounds... I am in m'Lord Susan's care, for I have handed myself over to the rightful rulers of Telmar-Narnia. I shall do what needs must to prove myself worthy of the clemency she has granted me for the time being." He swept a bow that should have been clumsy without the use of his hands, but he went almost horizontal in how deeply he went, "My sincerest thanks for being graced with such a lovely vision as yourself m'Lady centaur. Please, if I may know your name?"

That was the most honeyed delivery Susan had ever heard. And Morningdew must have been so shocked that his name didn't register, "It is Moringdew young sir."

"Ah, then I have been blessed by Aslan as has the world for your loveliness is a boon to these tired eyes," a winsome smile that made him appear dashing despite the fact that his usually well groomed aspect wasn't as well groomed as was his apparent preference.

"Ah, yes, ah - Susan where did you find this one?" Moringdew turned to glance at her, and Susan laughed.

Clearing her throat, "I found him with his lady not far from the beaten track. They were on their way to the front to beg asylum."

"I don't think Caspian -"

"I granted it Moringdew, and for now they're my responsibility. Caspian has enough things on his plate, and I need your help..."

"You know - every time you say that I wind up in trouble..."

Inigo grinned, "Ah but is not trouble the spice of life?"

XXXXXXXXXXX

Susan was about to open the door, but Caspian yanked it open, grabbing hold of her arm, swung her into their room, against the wall by the door even as he kicked it shut. Ominously the bolt slammed home. He was panting, sweating, eyes still unfocused, and he looked imposingly male. Several long minutes were taken to organize his thoughts, and Susan stayed quiet not wanting to trigger anything from him. And she knew it would be inevitable that he would be furious, insane with stress over her protracted absence.

Body pressed full length to hers, his head tipped down to glare, "Where have you been?"

"Out."

"Out. Where," each word bitten off.

"Running errands," keeping her voice steady.

The flat of his palm smacked the stone above her head, "Damn the bloody errands! Where. Were. You?"

"The troops need some supplies, I went along," which was true. It wasn't a lie. "And then the snow fell a lot and we wound up having to stay for abit longer than anticipated. So, I'm back now..."

"Why did you feel the need to go out and run supplies?" snarling.

Lifting up her gloved hand, Susan tried to cup his cheek but he jerked away from the touch, "Truthfully? I needed to get away from you for a bit."

Caspian froze, devastation flickering over him quickly to be bottled up and strangled away, "And who said you could do that?"

"I did. I needed to think without you breathing down my neck every five seconds," snapping at him. That was true too, but she didn't realize it until she'd said it.

"You do not have permission to go so far! You do not have permission to -"

Susan stomped on his instep, "That's enough!"

He cursed and stumbled back, bent over a hand wrapped around his ankle but she hadn't put much force to it, just enough to get him to back off, "You -"

"You better think long and hard about what follows that word Caspian," using the tone that she did when calling out orders - but of much lower volume.

Caspian straightened up, fists clenched at his sides, "And you better think on the position you put me in. At the risk you put yourself in."

"Caspian, if anyone were to ever find out, it would look like I was merely out for a long ride with Luis, nothing more - because that's what it really was in the long run Caspian," tugging her gloves off finger by finger then smacking them in an open palm. "I needed to get away and think Caspian, I've been through too much to not need some time to myself like that sometimes."

When it looked like he wasn't about to attack anymore, Susan moved away from the wall, unhooking the clasp of her cloak, draping it over an arm, then worked on the buckles of her jerkin. Making her way to her desk, Susan glanced over the piles of paper, continuing to shuck the various layers of clothing worn too long until she was just in her under tunic. Shuffling a few papers, Susan ignored Caspian who had moved only far enough to lean a shoulder against the wall staring at her. As he wasn't berating her or yelling at her, Susan felt that the argument was over. Leaving off the papers long enough to go to the trunk and pull out a fresh shift, Susan pulled the tunic off then with a whimpering sigh of relief unbound her full breasts. Wincing at how tender they were from the abuse, Susan rubbed them for just a moment before slipping the lavender fabric of her linen under gown fall over them.

Muttering, "Damn never had to leave that on for so long, ow - definitely not made for that... What I wouldn't give for a good brassiere."

Stretching and her back gave a little crack, then she sat down to try and figure out what needed to be done that hadn't been because she'd been gone so damnably long. Deep focus was required because halfway through a missive Susan realized she'd read the same line five times, she was just tired because now she was home, safe, and should be able to relax fully - at least that's what her body told her. The awareness of Caspian still warned that she should stay alert, but he wouldn't hurt her.

Susan jumped when hands came to rest atop her shoulders, thumbs stroking the back of her neck, Caspian's fingers curling foreword about her lower neck like a necklace. Staying very still Susan waited, her heart triphammering in her chest.

Caspian leaned down, his mouth right by her ear, "And what were you thinking on that was so important Susan that you had to get so far from me? Escape? Is that what you were plotting?"

"Don't be stupid Caspian," breathily, paper twisting in her grip, and she had to force herself to let it go, to try and relax.

"Then what?" his voice deep.

"You, I had to think about you," coming out with that much at least.

That threw him for a loop, and he stood up once more, trying to come up with a response. Seconds ticked, "And what about me did you have to think about then?"

"About if I was willing to stay with you, if I was okay with it or not," she couldn't say it. Susan wasn't sure if she ever could.

His fingers twitched tighter then moved down to the sides of her upper arms, "And?"

"I came back, didn't I?" hoping that would satisfy him.

"You said you were not plotting escape," his hands tightened around her arms.

"I wasn't."

"And so what does it mean then that you came back? For you would either way if you were not planning on fleeing," fingers not quite digging into her flesh.

"Caspian please, I'm still not..." huffing she tried to put it into words, "I'm not comfortable yet, I'm not safe yet, I don't know if I'll ever be safe enough to fully work through it all."

"Explain."

Though her arms were pinned somewhat, Susan still managed to stroke his knuckles of one hand, "I don't know how to say it how you'd understand. But I'm trying Caspian."

"No one would tell me where you were," Caspian's voice made her hackles rise. "I thought you were lost to me. And no one would do a thing to find you. I am still partially blind, too blind to search for you. I have no mount to carry me, I have... no sight to track you by."

When put like that, Susan could practically taste his terror at his helplessness, "Caspian, I -"

"You say I have not angered you, then you stay away for... for days." She could hear his throat working around air, "You come back, and you do not ask me if I missed you. Have I failed some test you have laid at my feet unbeknownst to me? Do you need me to say that I did? Or do you no longer care if I did or did not?"

"Caspian..." trying to turn but he wouldn't let her. Left no recourse but to try and tell him more than she was ready, "I came back Caspian because I wanted to. Because I needed to." Licking her lips, "I'm really tired, can.. can we go to bed?"

Caspian released her and took a few steps away, his face unreadable. Moving towards him, Susan tried to step up to him, but Caspian just backed away. Hurt, that's what the emotion was on his face. That little frown with tensed lips, locked jaw, brow furrowed - like he couldn't believe she would stay away from him. He still didn't understand, and was wary of her, like she'd try and tear into him.

"Caspian? Could... could you hold me?" hugging herself, rubbing her hands over her arms, she felt cold suddenly, shut out.

"Why should I?"

Biting her lip, Susan turned away, and took off her shift, and not knowing what else to do, she started to dress again in tunic and trews, "Nevermind."

"Why should I hold you?" he was right behind her again, so close she could feel his heat.

"Because I need you to," whispering.

Apparently that was all it took, and his hands took her clothes from her and tossed them aside before his arms enveloped her in warmth. Caspian picked her up, cradling her close, and Susan felt small and tiny and dainty, then she was placed ever so gently on their bed. He only parted from her long enough to shed his own garments, then was pressing against Susan, filling her world with his body. Whining, Susan's hand went to his manhood, stroking it to readiness, entreating him to take her.

[REDACTED]

Letting her hips fall back to the bed, Susan cuddled and stroked him, fatigue catching up to her. She couldn't help falling asleep, but the last thing she saw was Caspian before he gave her a last kiss goodnight.


	19. Chapter 19

XXXXXXXXXX

(Section 19)

It was a conspiracy; he'd finally figured it out. Caspian didn't want to believe it, but how could he not? They had been keeping him from her, and she'd been staying away. And then she was gone, missing, and Caspian hadn't known what to do. Now she was in his arms, beneath him, and he still felt helpless. Susan's face was more focused than it had been the last time she'd left, that was true, and it was a wonderful sight. She had said she needed him, wanted him - that was just pleasure clouding her mind.

It had to be.

Not after how she'd run away. Extricating himself from her embrace, Caspian flopped onto his back, exhausted. After he'd come to the conclusion that he was utterly helpless in finding her, he'd cried. Cried - him - a Prince of Telmar. The shame was absolute, yet Caspian couldn't help himself. And now he wanted to do it again, to sob brokenly like he had on only a handful of occasions. Pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes, to try and crush and grind out the urge, to push out the blurry vision - it didn't help. Rolling over to look at Susan's shadowy face, Caspian touched her lips.

This lips had said she'd needed him, that she'd come back, that she'd made some kind of decision. What was it though? Gone was the belief that she felt more for him than fondness, because she would not have fled, and it was a terrible blow. He hadn't realized how much he'd come to depend on that, and it had seemed that way for so long - yet now that security was torn away. Tracing a path down to her belly, he stroked there for a time, wondering if Susan would still be the bearer of his children. That was what he'd wanted, and part of him still cried out and demanded that. It wouldn't happen if she continued whatever insanity she'd been committing. Gathering Susan up in his arms, Caspian spooned around her, pressing his forehead into her shoulder.

Love was a disease, a mad thing, because he'd almost begged her to love him in turn. A royal fool - in more ways than one - it'd made him. Squeezing Susan tight, Caspian tried to find calm. She shifted and made a little noise, wiggling even closer to him, as though trying to burrow into his embrace. Chewing his lip, Caspian watched trying to focus fully on Susan, to see her completely. So far it was still just the blurred lines, misshapen blobs of colour. Swallowing, and clung a bit more to her.

Susan had only been asleep for maybe a few candlemarks, but Caspian had to have been holding her too tight, because she woke up a touch, "Mmmhoney?"

The endearment was strange, but sometimes she called him that (not wanting to think about the time she'd called him 'honeycakes' in front of his men - how humiliating), and it felt good to think that she felt he was something sweet. Relaxing his grip, "Yes?"

"Mmmlove you," it was a tiny whisper, her nose scrunching up, wiggling even closer, her fingers stroking his wrist. It was like it just popped out.

Caspian thought he'd been hit by a ton of bricks. His whole world tilted on its axis, and the sky became the ground, and the ground sky. Shaking like a leaf, Caspian fought and lost for calm. It was nowhere in sight right then.

Susan settled back down, then gave a start, waking up fully. She lay there frozen and stiff in his arms, as though she too had just realized what she'd said while partially asleep. He could feel her heart fluttering rapidly in her chest, where her back was pressed to him, and her palms were suddenly moist. Caspian was picking up small pieces of input, trying to use it to anchor him, because she couldn't have said that. They lay like that, both uncomprehending the words she'd just uttered. Should he pretend she hadn't said anything? Would _she_ pretend she hadn't said anything?

Blurting out, his mouth not checking with his head, "Do you?"

Jerky nodding, "Oh god..."

Not knowing how to respond, "Then... ah... good."

"Good?!" it was a squeak. "That's all you can say? 'Good'?!"

Clearing his throat, "What else should I say? I...I suppose you going out to think was ah... good... Was," tangling a leg with hers, "was that what you had to think about?"

"I... think so."

"Ah, then yes, you... going out to think was productive?"

Susan rolled over in his arms, blue smears in a pale moon blob, "Do you think maybe, we could... forget this conversation for now?"

Nodding, "Eeeh, yes, yes I agree, that would be... wise. For now."

"You don't think me diseased?" her face tucking into his chest.

He'd thought that the discussion was supposed to be over, but no her didn't think her diseased at all, "No."

"Good," fingers going up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck.

Feeling secure once more, Caspian soothed her back into rest, his fingers drawing little patterns on her spine. Every now and then he'd kiss her face something spreading throughout him that was potent and soft, much like when he finally _knew_ he loved her. It was just as strong and shattering, but this built his world back up with gentle hands instead of the deep despair his initial realization had brought to him. Even so Caspian was aware he'd never be able to mirror her bravery, he was too scared. It would hand over too much power, and she could then wield it to harm him in ways he'd never imagined.

That didn't mean he didn't tell Susan every time he touched her, kissed her, or that he wouldn't say it sometimes. She'd just never hear it. It was too great a risk.

Much later when he was absolutely sure Susan was asleep once more, his mouth pressed to her hairline, "I love you too."

It was easier than he thought, but would not be said when she could hear it, in ways she'd understand. This was enough though.

XXXXXXXXXX

Drinking the cranberry tea Caspian made a face, he hated cranberries. But it was what Susan was drinking, and so he drank it too. She'd said it was good for the body, and that that's why she had changed her preference of beverage. On a side note his vision was greatly returned, and in the last week Susan had been back, it was improving by leaps and bounds. That took much of that helpless feeling he'd been suffering from away. Still their evening meal was often taken abed rather than at the table like their breakfasts. Much of it would be quiet, like now, passing their cup back and forth, and Caspian's' eyes almost crossed as a forkful of food was held before his mouth.

"I can - omfum," as his lips parted to speak, the food was delivered quickly.

Susan giggled, plopping a kiss to the corner of his mouth, "I know. I just wanted to." Then she paused, looking at him, "Is, is it okay that I did that?"

Finishing his chewing, "Yes," resting his hand on the small of her back, "it is. Warn me if you intend on doing it again."

"Okay."

For a moment Caspian almost asked her to go on a winter nighttime ride with him, then he remembered once more Destrier's absence. Grunting to himself Caspian continued eating. As though she sensed his mood traveling south, Susan started caressing his thigh. Stilling her hand, Caspian felt a frown tugging his face into familiar planes.

"Caspian, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," moving the tray from his lap, getting up rubbing his forehead.

"Do your eyes hurt?" worried. He could hear Susan slipping behind him then soft fingers filled his palm.

Shaking his head, "No I am fine. It is nothing. I shall go for a walk." Forestalling her, "Alone."

"I'd like to go with you," holding his hand tighter.

Glancing at her, Caspian saw that Susan was only making a statement, not a demand as she once would have, "I would rather go alone." Raising their entwined fingers, he gave them a kiss, unthinking act of affection, "I will return."

"Caspian -" his cheek being caressed, "Caspian don't brood too long?"

Grunting, "It is a walk, nothing more."

He sensed her dubious look, though he could mostly tell now, "Okay. Don't leave me too long then? I'd had some things in mind..."

Sadly the enticement didn't entice, nor even the fact that Susan was making overtures on her own really go over very well in his mind. He missed his steed, his friend. And he just wanted to walk a bit on his own. Leaving the safety of their room, Caspian's feet led him straight towards Destrier's stall. Luis' had one built for him right next to it, of course with no gate to it, just a nice comfortable place. The scent of fresh horse assaulted his senses, and Caspian vaulted over the gate. His muscles strained, he was getting out of shape, then landed lightly on the balls of his feet. All traces of Destrier were gone except for a spare hackamore that he'd intended on repairing.

Straw that had been fresh when Caspian left was still there, and he sat in it, taking the leather headgear in hand. He'd had Destrier since before his father's death. His father had presented a still mourning seven year old Caspian with the huge black horse, a steed fit for a man, not a boy. But oh how he'd loved Destrier from the first minute he'd seen him, his father holding his hand as they went to the stables. A fully trained battle horse, sheer insanity to give to a child, especially the lone Heir, but Caspian IX had decided that little Caspian should have the gift of Destrier instead of himself. No use in allowing a Telmarine boy to mope over a woman's death. Even if that woman was his own mother. And even if his own little hands had had to strangle the last bit of life from her.

Caspian, eyes hot and stinging, hugged the leather to his chest. Such a stupid thing, such a sentimental and foolish thing. He was a man grown, missing a horse. A horse he'd run to when mad or hurt or shamed. Destrier was this huge thing that had made him feel small and safe when he was small and never safe. Acceptance and simple warmth were only to be had and allowed with the horse. Sometimes late at night, exhausted from the daily toils of becoming a 'proper' Telmarine man (though only being a child in reality), Caspian would sneak down to see the courser, watching him curiously. Eventually, foolhardy and idiotic (because he was only little and had that sense of invulnerability that most boys do at that age) he'd climbed into Destrier's stall. The horse had stayed mostly calm, only sidling this way and that a bit. But Caspian had wound up sleeping in the hay that first time, Destrier standing guard over him.

That happened alot, but Caspian learned quickly to race back to his rooms and feign 'normal' sleep for when he was to be awoke for the usual morning beating. Throughout all the years that Destrier had been in his life, Caspian had always found him, or had him returned. A piece of him kept thinking that any moment a black waterfall would come over him, a snuffling snort from wine-glass nostrils followed by a nicker. But Destrier was dead, Grilf had reported it.

"Your Highness," it was quiet, coming from the other stall.

Jerking, Caspian tried to banish the weakness that was washing through him - ugh such sentimentality over a possession. At least that's what he was pushing himself to say inside his mind. Of course - it didn't work, it never would. Not about Destrier, named after the fact that Caspian had only known one type of horse other than 'pony' at the time and had said that the great equine being was a Destrier and whenever anyone tried to correct him, Caspian had firmly stated that the horse was _Destrier_. With a capital 'D'. The name had stuck.

"Your Highness," again, and then Luis' head came over the short wall separating the two boxes.

Clearing his throat, hoping he didn't sound too strained, "Yes Sir Horse?"

"I was wondering if you could perchance scratch my forelock, it's a bit itchy," huge blue eyes blinked, almost the same shade as Susan's.

This was the first time he'd had a decent look at the Horse, and even so his vision was still foggy, and he saw that the gorgeous Horse was far more beautiful than he'd imagined. Standing up, he did as requested, making sure to stroke around the area first.

"You are not quite what I expected Sir Horse," fingers of his other hand tenderly touching the silky nose.

Caspian wasn't quite fully distracted from the weird ache in his chest that Destrier used to fill, but the suddenly stronger scent of something large and equine was comforting.

"Her Highness insists I call her by name, and I turn request the same," letting out a sigh of contentment, leaning into Caspian's hands happily. "And so please Your Highness, I much prefer my name to be said than an honourific. My honour is mainly tied up in the privilege of being her mount."

"Then I shall beg the same of you Luis," closing his eyes, taking in a deep lungful of hay laden air, and warm copper from Luis.

They were quiet, Caspian taking solace in the simple act of caring for a horse - of any sort. How many of the cavalry herds had he trained over the years? Too many to count, and outside of his rooms, the military stable was his kingdom. No one dared his wrath when it came to caring for their steeds, and quite a few cavalry captains had found themselves on the business end of Caspian's anger for heavy-handedness. A Telmarine was to value his mount above and beyond any human life (unless it was an accomplished son) and Caspian viciously enforced that. Even a few Lords had fallen before him, and not even Caspian's uncle and 'caretaker' Miraz could find legal fault with the Heir for his actions.

Horses were complicated and uncomplicated, their social hierarchies were intricate in the way only a very graceful 'simple' dance was. Without thinking Caspian blew at Luis' nose softly, flapping his lips then resting his cheek on a broad forehead. In return a gentle head butt of greeting and affection, and Caspian let out tiny grunt of peace. Hopefully the stable hands that Caspian had 'raised' (bastard sons of Lords - there were quite a few, for Lords tended towards the prolific and peasants - real peasants - were rarely allowed to care for the needs of the aristocrats) were caring for his herds well. Or perhaps Miraz's death would have to be especially atrocious, because the despot would strike out at anything that Caspian had held dear, as long as the Prince was out of his grasp.

Luis again made a timely interruption, "Caspian, would you care to go for a ride?"

Eyes closed still, he shook his head, rubbing his cheek over Luis' head, "No, thank you though. I am sure it is far too treacherous outside, and I would not be responsible willingly for harm befalling you." Pulling back, absentmindedly finding a spot behind Luis' large jaw to scratch, "Tell me, do you know if it is true what they say?"

"They say many things Caspian," and Caspian found himself wondering (not for the first time) about a particular Narnian's age. Luis was very wise, very calm, in a horsy kind of way. Grilf too was wise, a cloak of resigned cynicism laying like a cloak over a kernel of hope - while bearing a good humour through it all. And of course Glenstorm - whom he knew was fifty, but the man-half looked no more than thirty or so to him, was serenely knowledgeable. He was lucky to be graced with so many with so much knowledge at their disposal. But was wisdom (like he'd been taught) something only the old get? Or was it something else entirely, for Susan at times was far more than her simple seventeen years would suggest. Maybe she was eighteen now, he didn't know - he should ask, and with a great deal of chagrin realized that he himself was older than he had been before the war.

"They say that High King Krispen and many of his line, were given the honour of a Horse as a steed," curious though by no means making a request. The Herds had not come for him for a reason, and it wasn't because he had Destrier for a mount already. They had only come in numbers after Susan had resided here for a time. And even then, they had no truck with him.

He was Telmarine in their eyes, even he knew that, and his kind had subjugated the Horses, breaking them, forcing the Mares to bear mixed foals - part Horse, part horse. Destrier was a quarter Horse even, which is why he was so fast and intelligent - Caspian IX had given him a prize indeed, an absolute rarity. Of course Caspian had cherished Destrier more than life itself, if he could have redone the ambush, he would have taken the bolts that had peppered his steed himself.

"And they would be right in that instance, though," a good natured whicker, "they also say he sat a poor seat. It was his fair sisters who rode the best, they could ride into battle without reins or saddle and not fall off no matter how frenzied the tumult would become."

"Really? They never discuss the Queens for the most part," it was news to him.

A nudge, "Of course not, otherwise the women would get ideas."

Laughing, "True, true. And that is to be avoided it seems."

"Susan thinks it is for fear that a woman would do a better job," stepping side to side in his box, prancing a bit in his mirth.

"And - do you think they would?"

Luis shook his head lightly, and Caspian marveled at the deep marbly chocolate of his coat, of the moonlight shimmer of his mane, oh what he wouldn't have given to have a mount like that (other than Destrier of course - no Horse or horse would ever be better than him in Caspian's mind) "I think that human women are smarter than human men." More dancing, then he stilled, pushing his head over as far as he could to give Caspian a horsy hug, "And a smart man would know that a woman is at least, if not more so, intelligent than he. It has ever been the women of your family who were the most wise."

"But Krispen the Mighty was High King," pointing that out. He hadn't had a chance to debate history since his days when Inigo had been his friend. Of course, history not being Inigo's strong suit, Caspian always won by default.

"Because it was the only thing he was suited to," snorting. "Lucitania the Swift, she was a navel genius, and Myrozo the Clever - he was head of diplomacy. Oddly enough, Nylasimina the Kind was who headed the army."

"I find that hard to believe, it is the High King -"

"Not to cut you off Caspian, but your histories have been garbled for centuries, it is the Herds who tell the tales, we were last of the Narnians to finally flee the tyranny thrust upon us," clicking his large teeth in agitation. "We were used as beasts of _burden_ Caspian, we the proud and graceful Horses have been loyal until it was clear to us that no longer was the blood of Adam still thick enough in your line's veins to bear the indignity and torture any longer! Our Mares raped, our Stallions neutered - shame, horror and torture Caspian. While we tried hard to understand, and stay loyal. To uphold our pact with our rulers. Trust me when I say this Caspian, we know your history better than you. We were witness, we were party to it. You, you small boy left in unkind hands, raised to cruelty - of course your knowledge is to be poor. Few still believe that you are worth the effort of serving, and do you not wonder why it took your wife to save you?"

Wordlessly Caspian shook his head, what had been a simple thing was now no longer that at all. And he needed to know this, to know what his people thought - if they were even willing to be his people that is.

"Because, better a true Narnian, or even a total stranger who has proven herself to be Narnian, than something soiled. That is why many of the young minotaurs who are here despise you, their forefathers were part of the Royal Guard, and they were the first to taste of pain and betrayal." Luis spun about in his box, stepping this way and that as though he hadn't intended for such a distressing conversation to happen, but now that it was, was unable or unwilling to stop, "Then the dwarves, the artisans of fine weapons, and the miners of ore, strung up and shoved away. Centaurs, the Captains of many soldiers - human and non - thrown aside. For what? Human jealousy? Ignorance? The Lords, the Council worked hard to undermine the co-habitation of all the peoples, and the power of the Rulers. Then a crusade against women, and their right to knowledge - Queen Hycian III took a Telmarine Lord as husband, and he murdered her for protesting and trying to protect all her peoples! And raised their sons in hate, for he was afraid of that which he did not understand, he saw the power of others and disliked it. Strong women have been put down, just as the Narnians. This is much of the blood that you bear, such poison. So much hate, so much fear, no one should be ruled by such a man. Are you like this? Sometimes I wonder, then I hear many stories Caspian, of you toiling side-by-side, shedding sweat and blood willingly. Is it for your Throne?"

"It was once, yes," which was true, now not entirely so, "but whether the Narnians are willingly my people are not Luis, they still are. And as such, I will not let needless harm befall them. No one takes what is mine without consequence, and the Lords shall know this. Not only my Throne was taken, now threats loom over all my people, and I will not tolerate it."

"No smooth tongue do you have, but you speak often I have heard, from the depths of your soul," Luis' strident tones gentled, calm once more. "And that is what I have seen, more than any other Horse, for I have been present for enough time to know this for sure. You are still Narnian somewhere inside you, and that is why when it is time, a Horse may come for you."

Moved beyond belief, Caspian clambered over the dividing wall, wrapping his arms around the dainty Horse.

Peaceful feelings washed and eased Caspian, this had been good, and quite informative. But mostly, the sentiment that he was good enough in someone's eyes, something he'd never noticed he'd never had - let alone craved, broke more of that wall that was his upbringing down.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Caspian felt far more calm than he could ever remember. His vision was almost entirely clear, though his peripheral was still shot but it seemed to be passing, he had his.. wife... and his people were fed and rested for the most part. Winter lay heavily throughout, a thick blanket of ice everywhere, deep as his hip. Supplies were still being run, but on sleighs pulled by gryphons flying low to the ground.

He himself was well rested, and even had found a sparring partner. An unwilling one at that - always a plus. Lurrulg didn't like him, and Caspian liked that. It meant the minotaur wouldn't go easy on him. In fact, Caspian was now springing up from having been flung half across the Stone Table room, and was bounding off of a rock meeting the positively huge beast.

"I can keep this up all day," the blue-gray of his hairy face twisted.

Throwing his comparatively inconsiderable weight into his opponent, "Is that all? And here I thought the minotaurs were so fond of expounding upon their touted stamina!"

A semi-bovine roar and Caspian found himself once more thrown. Bounding up, switching his hold on his sword, "Is that your favorite move? It does lack in originality..."

"I'm going easy on you blind man!"

"Oohh," shaking his dagger from side to side in cautionary motion, "as am I! I have no wish to cut you... Well no," cocking his head, "I actually do... You do have an annoying tendency to ah," his blade engaging with Lurrulg's scythe, "try and keep me from my, grah! Wife!"

Lurrulg went down with a tremendous 'thump' after Caspian hooked the minotaur in the leg, unbalancing the man and making him fall. Kicking the scythe away, Caspian lay the tip of his blade to Lurrulg's throat, wiping his brow, "Which is unconscionable. So, tell me Lurrulg, how long was she truly gone? It was no mere four days, now was it?"

As it had been the wager for this session, Lurrulg parted with the information, albeit reluctantly, "Eight days all told. Have I mentioned that I don't like you?"

"Repeatedly," stepping back lightly. Frowning, Caspian wondered at that - it took her eight days to run supplies to the front, and to stay away from him from him for at least two days extra? That made no sense. She would have to have gone out even farther than the frontline's current position for even in the height of winter for the trip back to take so long. At most six days. "Another round, another wager?"

Lurrulg snorted, "No. I have sentry duty."

"I relieve you of it then."

"What's your wager then Highness?"

"So you accept?"

Another grunt, "I haven't decided. I can't tell you what I don't know."

"Why was Her Highness gone so long?"

"No wager, it doesn't apply," picking up his weapon, Lurrulg sheathed it, "Hopefully a snow fairy will come and bite you on the sack and make you go crack your skull. Your Highness."

Ignoring the insult, Caspian accepted the sidestepping. Then that meant something else happened, but what? And did he even really want to know? Wiping his face off on his sleeve, Caspian grunted in indecision. What it came down to was he ultimately had to protect Susan and his people. Massaging his temples, Caspian leaned against the Table, it wasn't a headache that was forming exactly, more just a mental fatigue.

Clopping alerted him to Glenstorm's entrance (it was a firm step, very measured - that's how Caspian knew, having retained that ability from being fully blind), "I thought I'd find you in here. Lurrulg seemed quite worn out as he passed."

Tossing his head so his bangs would move out of his eyes, "A friendly match."

"Nothing between you is what I'd call 'friendly' in any way," coming closer.

"It was friendly, because I did not harm him, let alone kill him," grunting as he leaned back on his arms.

"You are troubled," being as Caspian couldn't hide that from his second.

"And you state the obvious quite astutely," snarking.

"Hmm," arms crossed, muscles in the large forearms rippling with the motion.

Turning around, Caspian looked up at Aslan's image, "Were you looking for me?"

"Our last conversation here was far from pleasant," a large hand came to rest on Caspian's shoulder, the gesture strange and unfamiliar.

Only Susan really touched him.

And Glenstorm had not answered the question. It was his way.

"This is true." He still had to know, and Glenstorm would be aware of what Susan had been doing, "I would rather not order this of you Glenstorm, but I will if I must." The heavy hand twitched, the grip tightening on his shoulder, and Caspian forged ahead, "What has passed since my incapacitation?"

"Raids, quite a few of them, a fairly staggering toll all things told," words slow and measured, "we are beyond well stocked due to the seizing of supplies. So much so that actions to support the poorest villages have been enacted, so that the Telmarine peasants there will not starve if they do not harbour soldiers."

"Excuse me? I thing I misheard you," disbelieving.

"It is as I said Caspian, a few new strategies have been enacted, a... redistribution of the resources and skills or the troops," Glenstorm's news was astounding.

"How?"

"The songs of the fauns and satyrs, they keep the Telmarine soldiers docile for the most part, and ...a bloodbath begins."

"All? All the soldiers?" trying not to sound hopeful - if there were no soldiers left then Miraz would have no army to resist a forward sweep from Caspian come spring!

"Of course not," the words shattering Caspian's fleeting prayer.

That made him angry, "What? A prime opportunity to decimate -"

"-your people."

"...Explain," snapping.

"The Telmarines are simply... Narnians who are lost, and that includes the men who have become soldiers," shaking his head.

Grinding his teeth, Caspian tried to clear the haze of irritation from his mind, "And you decided that it was better to risk having more men for Miraz to field when there was such an easy way to be rid of his forces?"

"It was decided that a campaign to strike fear of being under the Lords thumbs rather than being free under your hand was a far stronger blow to Miraz than simply decimating the male population," Glenstorm's hand left his shoulder, and its absence was felt immediately. "The people must love you Caspian, all of them, and you will win no friends if you kill ever man you can."

"And what of my troops Glenstorm? If there are more of Miraz's men to fight... then more of my troops will die," shaking his head, trying to make the centaur understand.

"That is a risk that must be taken, it is... I'm uncomfortable with the tactics Caspian, it is honourless," taking a shuffling step backwards, and he appeared troubled, eyes darting to Aslan, then back to Caspian, shame painting his face.

Nodding with a sigh, "Yes, I ... I know it is a difficult path to take for you. But that is not your only reason, you never have just one my comrade." Raking his fingers through his hair, "Honour should be kept, but, my men Glenstorm, I have to think of their families. And of what they have already suffered because of my forefathers."

"And are the Telmarines not your people?" thick lips forming the words carefully. "Are they any less deserving of you consideration?"

Epiphany struck, "These arguments are not your own."

"No," grunting, "they are not. But they are my feelings as well."

"How much has my lady wife taken part in these... _decisions_ then?" groaning internally - what was he to do? She insisted on putting herself in constant danger! At this rate he'd have to commit genocide to keep her safe! And that would be as dishonourable as breaking his word!

"As much as is appropriate," it came easily.

Well that was a worry taken from him, forgetting often that their standards of 'appropriate' were not the same. (Glenstorm had been taking classes in semantics to some degree from Susan, who had gained a few pointers on manipulating Caspian from Inigo.) Along with that relief was also the fact that he hadn't gotten a real answer to his question: what had Susan been doing out for so long, and so far out?


	20. Chapter 20

Susan raised one dainty foot from the water, toes wiggling as she hummed to herself. Caspian marveled at the sight of her hair coiled messily atop her head, tendrils curling and clinging to the delicate arch of her neck. He could see her in full detail and it was wonderful; when she'd disappeared for a 'short' errand for two days, (being honest about the length this time), to check on the secondary storehouse five leagues north of the How. His sight was fully returned it seemed, and to have one of his first days completely free to see as well as he had before filled with the image Susan was presenting now was ...well it was good.

Moving to the side so he could have a better vantage, Caspian couldn't help the lupine grin on his face. The tops of her breasts gleamed in the water, and he could see a droplet of water atop a bare shoulder, calling to him. Stalking forward, Caspian went to that tiny glistening gem, leaning over and swiping it up with the tip of his tongue. Susan squeaked in surprise, water sloshing around as she spun about, hand flying to a pin, yanking it free and holding it at the ready.

Raising a brow, "Interesting reaction."

Chest heaving fetchingly, cheeks flushed, "You startled me."

"I can see that," taking the spiraled piece of wood from her, and moving behind Susan once more, twisting her hair so that he could reaffix the ornament. Removing his ever present jerkin then his shirt, Caspian reached a hand into the bath, fishing for her washcloth, "How was your trip?"

"Did you miss me?" sinking further into the water.

"MmmI was not so bored as usual, but the bed was colder than I like," lathering soap into the fabric.

"So you missed me," blue eyes watching as Caspian hitched his hip on the lip of the tub, taking her hand in his, washing her arm sensuously.

[REDACTED]

Pulling away swiftly, even though Susan let out an indignant squeak to move so that when the door opened the intruder wouldn't have a full view of his woman.

"Su, I know you've been busy what with the prisoners but I thought – oh!" Rosetta slammed to a stop, head tipped back green eyes big as saucers.

Before Caspian could hook onto the word 'prisoners' Susan slid in smoothly, "Rosetta, I was going to go look for you earlier. But the flight back from camp was atrocious. Forgive me?"

"Oh it's ah," Rosetta broke free of his stare, skin pasty and managed to settle her gaze on something less threatening than himself, "it's fine dear. But we do need to get you fitted for a new dress or two, spring tends to be wet, and you've had your current dresses for oh quite some time, and then of course the girls and I did add to them a bit, and should I leave you two alone?"

"Yes –" Caspian snapped just as Susan's dulcet voice overrode him.

"No –"

Throwing a frown her way, Caspian almost snarled. They had things to speak of probably. But a warm smile, shy and dare he say 'mischievous' was thrown his way, making his vote moot. It was a rather irritating ability, and one he'd have to curb. Bending over to grab his shirts Susan's laughter stopped him.

Rosetta was making a face and crossing her arms, features all scrunched up, chest puffed out. She looked like she'd either eaten something really disgusting or was forced to smell something terrible. Or quite possibly both, but it seemed like she was imitating someone..  
Were… were they mocking him?

"Oh stop it, he's just like that sometimes," it was a hissed whisper, Susan waving her hand around, the other covering her smile.

And here he'd thought Rosetta a good influence on Susan!

Growling, "That is enough."

Both drew up like naughty children caught, each doing her best to look innocent. What else would they have expected to happen other than be caught in the act when the object of their mockery was right there not a meter from them? He had been blind not deaf, and his sight was fully restored!

Susan impishly smiled up at him, "Honey, you've got to tell me where you get so many lemons."

"Excuse me?" confused.

"Because yet again, you look like you're eating one…"

Tugging his shirt on over his head, disregarding Rosetta for the moment, "And you are trying my patience."

"Oh big man in charge is losing his patience," and then she pushed some of the water out of the tub in a splash.

Caspian didn't jump back in time, and so was drenched from the waist down. Jaw dropping in shock, Caspian just stared. What the blazes did she think she was doing?

Glancing over at Rosetta whose face was buried in her hands, shoulders shaking and Caspian looked from one to the other. What was going on?

"What has gotten into you?" snapping at Susan. "Rosetta, leave – at once!" ordering the dwarf out so that he could have privacy to find out what was wrong with Susan.

The dwarf fled strangled laughter pealing behind her. From the door back to Susan, Caspian glared, incredulous. Stalking closer to Susan, who was the picture of innocence, he grabbed her chin, tilting her face up so he could look her right in the eye.

For his troubles he got another splash.

"Susan, what do you think you are doing?" arms spread out as he glared down at himself.

"What? This?" another splash.

"Susan, stop that!"

"Make me!" giggling but no torrent of water followed.

Picking up one of the two extra buckets of water that was always brought in, Caspian dumped it over her head. Susan squealed in indignation then laughed. Lunging up from the tub her arms wrapped around him, dragging him off balance. Wavering for a brief moment before gravity got the better of him, Caspian fell in, arms flailing. It was a struggle, his instinct was to lash out, to do bodily harm to an assailant but it was only Susan, and she had sunk under the water to join him, mouth seeking his out. Her hands were tangled in his hair, holding his head above the water, his legs over the side of the tub.

"What has gotten into you?" whispering, held in thrall of Susan's smile.

She beamed, "You can see. Really see… Plus, I missed you."

"Well yes, I thought that was obvious," raising an eyebrow.

"Mmmyes, but it just sort of hit me," nose scrunching.

Wriggling, torso twisting, Caspian tried to get more comfortable in the tub, drawing his legs in, "And has caused you to lose all sanity?"

"Yes," it was heartfelt and it made his stomach tighten, in no small part caused by the hands that had squirmed under his shirt, "and it makes me happy. I mean it's a small thing," voice sinking to a whisper, "but it's a wonderful thing."

Twisting around further so he could drag his sopping shirt off, "Yes now you can show me all of what you have been doing, so that I may take over once more. You now need not worry over taking care of so much."

Susan was silent, accepting he hoped, the fact that now she could go back to the appropriate duties befitting a woman. She was squirming removing his boots as he unlaced his pants, working at the wet leather for several moments before it came free. Wet splats from his clothing being thrown over her shoulder, and Caspian smiled, liking how Susan was so much easier with him of late. Allowing her to push him back, Caspian's hands went around her waist, stroking her back softly, meeting her for another kiss.

Moist lips trailed along his jaw, "It's not that Caspian. It's just that I've got you back, all of you."

"I did not know I was gone," murmuring as she nibbled at his neck.

Legs wrapped around his waist, Susan scooted close to him, her hands in his hair, fingernails scraping his scalp lightly, "I just hope," her voice cracked and Caspian frowned.

Trying to dip his head to get a good look at her face where it was tucked into his shoulder, "What? What is wrong? Susan?"

"I hope you'll still be you," not letting him get a look at her face.

"I do not follow…?" confused. How would he not be himself?

"This," squeezing him tight. "I don't want this to go away. I want… I want you to…"

"To what?" taking hold of her shoulders, pushing Susan away gently so he could look into her eyes.

Swallowing, "It's stupid."

Shrugging, "Then tell me anyway."

"I still want to feel like you need me," looking anywhere but at him. "At least a little bit."

Caspian wasn't sure what to say to that, it was obviously something Susan needed very much. But Caspian just didn't have a frame of reference that enabled him to think of what to say without sounding weak. And he was still Telmarine enough to find that intolerable. Susan's face continued to fall when he hadn't said anything, so he knew he had to think fast, find something that would wipe that sad look from her eyes.

"I still will need a Queen," hoping that would work. "As you are my wife, you would fill that role with ease…"

The distance increased with each word out of his mouth, despite the fact that Susan hadn't moved an inch, "I guess."

"Susan," saying helplessly, "what do you wish me to say?"

"Nothing," biting her lip, shaking her head, moving around until her back was to him, "don't worry, I'll work hard at being what I'm supposed to be I guess."

Water sloshed as she stood, her snow white skin glistening, and when she bent over reaching for one of the towels on the floor, presented a lovely view of her heart shaped ass. But the air had gone chilly, robbing him of his ability to appreciate the picture as much as he would have otherwise. Reaching out, Caspian lay his hands on the small of Susan's back, fingers curling around her waist. Sighing, leaning forward to press his forehead into a cheek, Caspian frowned. Susan stiffened at his nearness, muscles going tense almost imperceptibly. Caspian felt it though, could feel her withdrawing, all the progress they had made slipping away and Caspian didn't want that.

How to solve the dilemma? It was too important to just let go until there was no fixing things. Yet Caspian didn't know what was really wrong with what he'd said or not said.  
"Susan," heaving another sigh, "please. Tell me what you want me to say."

"Caspian, hush, don't worry, everything's fine, there's nothing to say," but it was apparent that there was much that needed to be said.

Rubbing his nose into her hip, "No, I have done something displease you. Tell me how to fix it. I… I do not know how."

She turned in his grasp, hands on his shoulders, "There's nothing to fix. Honest."

"Susan," growling, "that is a lie, and you belittle me by saying otherwise. I need you to tell me things, I am Telmarine and this, this is wholly unfamiliar to me."

Her smile was wan, "You're not very Telmarine." he gave her a look and she elaborated, "You're talking about feelings. I thought Telmarines didn't have something so human?"

"Do not change the subject," sticking to his course. "I am human, and not only that, I am your husband. How am I to take care of you if you do not…" unable to believe he was about to say this, the word tasting foul in his mouth, "icommunicate/i with me. It is weakness I know, but weakness is all you seem to understand, and so I shall work on doing what I must to keep you…"

"Tractable?" frowning, her full lips twisting at the word.

Actually yes, that was exactly what he thought, but didn't say that. "No. Satisfied. Yes, I wish to keep you satisfied, so that…"

"So I'm tractable?"

"iNo/i, it is so that you will stay with me and not flee!" snapping, losing patience. "I will not let you leave me, and that means I must keep you happy! And keep you in love with me!" Unable to stop himself, not thinking, "I must have you with me, I cannot lose the one person I looo…" voice trailing off suddenly, aware of what he was about to blurt. If only his mouth would check with his head more often, he wouldn't hand so much power over so often. Trying to regain his verbal footing, "I cannot lose the one person I require to maintain my quality of life and happiness. So –"

"What were you going to say?" cutting him off.

Silent, sullen, Caspian looked away, staring at her bellybutton, not wanting to see her expression, "Nothing. I was going to say nothing at all."

"You expect me to love you," tone chiding, "and keep you happy. But in return you do what? Cater to the least of my needs, only offering up a minimal amount in return for what I willingly give?" She sighed, giving him a little push, "It doesn't work that way Caspian. I know you'll never love me. You're not capable of it."

That hit him like a hammer blow, making him reel back in unexpected pain. Her delivery was so soft, the words said with utter resignation, and Caspian's hand flew to his chest, pressing where his heart hurt suddenly. Susan clambered out of the tub, picking up a towel, wrapping it around her naked body. Back to him, Susan grabbed another, drying her hair roughly, acting as though she hadn't just stabbed him in the heart and twisted the knife of words around in his chest. Breathing shallowly, Caspian stared at her, mouth hanging open. And to think he'd thought today was a wonderful day.

Sinking back in the tub, Caspian tried to shake it off, mumbling, "I do love you."

But Susan didn't hear him, he was too quiet. Either that or she'd tuned him out completely like she did sometimes, deep in her own world. She hid in paperwork, seeking some sort of peace and solace that she should be able to find in him, but hadn't. Caspian tried to shake his head, to move, to get out of the tub, but found that strength had fled. Was he such a monster?

"I do love you," saying it louder this time. "You are my wife. And I do love you."

She still wouldn't look at him, hunched over work, the planes of her face focused on her menial task.

"Susan, I do love you," scrambling from the tub. It got easier each time he said it, and Caspian thought the rushing in his ears was the world crashing around his shoulders, but it was just the thudding of his blood, "Susan, I do love you."

"How can you?" her lips formed the words, her voice an infinitesimal whisper. "How can you, a Telmarine, love me?"

Flabbergasted, "How can I not?" Shaking his head, Caspian dragged Susan, chair and all away from the desk, "How can I not love you Susan? Everyone loves you, they cannot help themselves. But –"

"Is that the reason? Then that's no real reason," eyes moist, but the tears were blinked away before they fell. "I can live with you caring for me as a possession, or useful tool. Just don't lie to me."

Growling, this he could cope with, Caspian sank to his knees, "I do not lie to you. Do not insult me like that. It is a simple fact, accept it."

"Accept what? Being told I'm worthwhile, while inside to you I'm nothing? No," fidgeting, "don't insult me like that. If you just are upfront with me Caspian, I can deal, but don't…"

"Do not do what? Tell you that you give me what I need, and that I wish to provide the same for you?" Scowling, not seeing that logic at all, "Do not tell you the truth about your place in my life? You are my wife, you are my lover, you will be my Queen, my Narnian Queen, the mother of my children. That you are one of my best advisors, and a friend? That you make me soft, and yet that makes me strong?" Leaning on her thighs, Caspian tipped his head back so he could force her to look at him, "That when I was captured the most frightening thing I have ever known was knowing that I will never be able to tell you that I love you? That I prayed to live long enough to buy you and the Narnians time to flee this land? That my first and last worry was for you?" The words wouldn't stop, a dam had been torn down, "You make me commit insane acts, give me the strength to do things that I, as a Telmarine even, I should not do? Because I must protect you? Keep you safe? And not for the simple reason of you give me pleasure? Any woman can do that Susan, and many have. None of them are you, nor do they drive me to this madness. How is this not love? If it is not, please tell me, so I can find out what it is! My life would be easier, and I would be dead several times over I am quite sure, if I did not have this damnable thing for you that makes my breast hurt so!"  
To that Susan didn't have anything to say, she just sat there stunned, so Caspian forged ahead, "I am mad well and truly Susan. I am sick with worry and fear that you will be hurt. There is not a day that goes by, Glenstorm tries to reassure me that you have been only appropriately involved in the war effort. Yet I suspect that this is not entirely true. He has been coached to sidestep my efforts in finding out what it is exactly that you have been doing. And why do I do this? I do this because I love you Susan. I must protect you. I have become a horrible leader because, because," strangling the words, for they stuck in his craw, "if I had to choose between the Narnians, victory over Miraz… or losing you… I would chose you. I would cling tight to you, turning my back on everything. On every person who has died. On all who will die. Just for you. On my very ihonour/i without second thought for you. And you question me? You question my sincerity? My ability to even ilove/i?"

Susan was shaking her head, hands covering her mouth, eyes huge, in denial.

Her continued silence agitated Caspian, who was already going crazy with released sentiments, and he picked her up, lifting her bodily from the chair and throwing her to the bed. Leg lashing out, kicking the chair so it flew, hitting the wall, a leg snapping off of it, and Caspian tried to get a grip on himself. Susan was shivering, shaking, trembling in fear that came off her in waves. Suddenly he realized how frightful he must appear, how much he must be reminding her of the first time. That epiphany was startling, giving Caspian pause.

Clenching his teeth, "I am willing to go to so many lengths to keep you safe Susan, to give you what you need. How many times have I proved this to you? How many more must I?" Turning his back, attempting to calm his galloping heart, "Say something Susan. Please."

"What can I say?" tremulous. "I don't… I can't… I don't know how to trust that." It was a whimper, "I don't know how to believe that. I just don't, I'm sorry… please…"

Glancing at her over his shoulder, she was huddled, trying to protect herself, half expecting him to force her it looked like. Approaching her slowly, Caspian sat at the end of their bed, "Tell me how to show you in a way you will understand. Tell me what you need to hear, I have said all I know to say and more."

Susan still wouldn't look at him directly, "I don't know."

Scooting closer to her slowly, treating her as a frightened animal, "I do need you."

To that Susan flinched, "Why couldn't you have just said that earlier?"

"I told you to tell me what you needed to hear," exasperated. "Am I to constantly reveal everything inside me? To give you so much power over me at all times? Can I not have some part of myself for myself?"

"You don't let me have anything for myself, and you always hold absolute power over me," pointing out.

Brow furrowing, "I let you practice archery, I let you wear men's clothes when you ride with Luis due to the weather, I let you go outside, I let you read and write and participate… How is this –"

"No time for me," rippling her fingers side to side where they clenched her shin, "you don't want me to have time to just exist and think on my own. Why? How is that letting me have what I need?"

Stopping his gradual shifting to be nearer Susan, Caspian groaned, "Then tell me what you need! Open your mouth and say whatever words you must! Write me a note if you are otherwise incapable of telling me to my face!"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to talk to you? I don't know what to say so often, I…" she trailed off.

"I am listening," reaching out to lay his hand on her foot, fingers massaging her arch gently. "I am new to this Susan, I have been trying hard to reconcile what a Narnian King and a Telmarine King would do. Forgive…" pausing, gathering strength from Susan's need to hear him say these things, his throat felt parched, and his head was splitting with a headache, unused to dealing with things so plainly. Which was sad, because Caspian had always been plain spoken, but with Susan he saw now he had to spell things out for her. Things he himself hadn't been fully aware of. Stretching out on his side, maintaining his gentle grip on her foot, "Forgive my failings as growing pains. You have always lived in a world where people spoke of their needs and feelings, as these are strengths for you. Where I come from, strength, strength is not measured by that. It is measured in endurance, physical strength, cunning and cruelty. And if I may venture, I think I have been doing very well all things considered. You demand, I give as best I can."

"I demand nothing from you Caspian," her chin resting on her knees, toes wiggling so they touched his forearm.

"Oh? I quite recall you saying that you demanded and deserved my respect." Running his hand up and down the back of her calf, "I also recall you demanding that I drop my strange notions. But, I also recall you giving the same to me."

She was quiet for a long time, and Caspian didn't rush her, despite the fact that all he wanted to do was drag Susan to him, and show her without words what he felt. That wouldn't work because his actions had been falling on deaf ears, not because she wasn't willing to 'hear' him, but because she didn't know how. Well, he didn't know how to hear her either, or make himself heard, but he hoped he was remedying that at the moment.

Clearing her throat, "Caspian, do you think… do you think that maybe tonight…"

"Whatever you wish, I will do," leaning on his elbow to kiss her knee.

"Do you think you could… could just hold me? Because right now… I'm, I'm still scared of you," quavering, her fear caught and held tight to her breast as Susan tried to control it.

No he didn't think he could do that, just hold her, it had been a few days, and all he wanted to do was rekindle their sex life. But he nodded anyway, "If you could do something for me then."

Susan chewed her lip, "What?"

"Tell me, tell me why do you fear me when you are the one person who can control me? You hold absolute power of me, not the other way around."

"You could still order my death," snorting.

Grunting, "I could order it. But I would be killed for such a thing for starters. And I do not think I could say such words, give such an order. Not anymore. Not for a long time."

"Since when?" disbelieving.

Caspian thought about that for a moment, "When you told me that I would kill you. Under the tree. When I gave you your bow."

"But you… later…"

Frowning in confusion, "Pardon?"

"After Grilf brought you back…"

"Ah," understanding, "I was insane for various reasons, and even then I could not do it. Do you know how many times I went to you with that intention? How often I was close to it, and then unable to follow through?" admitting it freely. He felt no shame for his actions. Caspian couldn't feel shame for it, for he hadn't followed through on those urges, and had accepted that. So it was no longer of import. "The important thing Susan is that I could not, and did not, follow through. Not that I thought about it," dwelled on it really, planned on it, attempted it, repeatedly, "You have nothing to fear from me Susan. Not from me. But… the Council, you do have to fear that. I can only put myself between you and them so much."

Susan grunted, shifting around, moving to lay her leg over his stomach and the other under his head, providing him with a pillow, "Why not just change the rules?"

"I am not an absolute monarch," starting to explain. For someone as intelligent as Susan, Caspian thought she'd have figured that out by now.

"I know that," huffing, "but if you want to be able to mix Narnian with Telmarine, you'll have to take action. And the sort of action necessary is that of an absolute monarch. So disband the Council. Or rescind some of their powers. Put the ones who disobey, to death for treason, you'd have a perfect excuse because they have been supporting Miraz. Which is treason in of itself."

Mouth agape, Caspian just looked at Susan, unable to formulate a response to that, "That is the most… the… Susan."

"Hmm?" twirling a lock of hair about her finger.

"Well to be blunt I had not thought of that," scratching his chin.

"It would give you an out, a way to ensure the sons didn't view you as simply killing them all off," continuing to play with her hair. "A legal way. A way that would allow you to consolidate your powers as King and to get rid of potential threats. So, what Lords do you think would support you?"

Again another question that caught him off guard, "I suppose Inigo would. But that was in times past."

"Why wouldn't he now?"

"He was my captor," uncomfortable, "he sought to use my capture as a bargaining chip to gain the hand of a Lord's daughter."

"Well if you were to say, take the throne tomorrow, and Miraz was killed, couldn't you…" foot tapping on his stomach, "offer Inigo some sort of ultimatum? Or something else to make him support you?"

Blinking slowly, Caspian let the words sink in, "He only supports Miraz for the sake of this girl, he is in love. And will go to great lengths…"

"But?"

Sighing, "But he would support me if I was crowned King, yes."

"Anyone else?"

The idea of this plotting was strange, Caspian didn't spend time on it, not because he was incapable, but because it had seemed so far distant. Again Susan was proving her use, and Caspian realized that she'd make a perfect Queen, displaying a head for politics that surpassed his own. Well, no not surpassed, but she was planning, thinking, worrying, and asking questions.

"He would be the biggest supporter, and his House is one of the four largest," taking hold of her foot once more, this time massaging it between his hands. "Inigo… I… he was my friend once upon a time."

"Ah," it was soft.

Lifting his head to glance at Susan, "You have changed the subject I may mention. And quite deftly. Until my power was consolidated you must hide how good you are at this, or someone will assassinate you. To rid me of a powerful ally. And to cause an uprising of the Narnians, so that Telmarine supremacy could be reinstated. Another civil war. A war of obliteration. Do you understand?"

"Not really, I'm not that important," shrugging.

Chuckling, "Yes you are. Not just to the Narnians, not just to me as an ally, but to me as my wife, and my lady. You have brought a breath of fresh air, reminding us all of more than war. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had been killed. When," turning somber again, "I was in Inigo's clutches, I knew that you would make a decent ruler, knowing when to listen to your councilors. But ultimately I felt you would be a bit more of a figurehead."

"I wouldn't have been much Caspian, I still don't think I'll be much good," flinging her arms off to the side. "I'm not cut out for it. I had to get you back Caspian, I couldn't handle it without you, I still can't handle it without you there."

"Mmm," humming low in his throat, "no, you would have made a fine Queen on your own. But you would be able to impose an absolute monarchy without any trouble. You would have to. I will not have such a luxury. I will have to be cunning, and I will need you there to keep me from degenerating into what the Kings of the past were." Tracing the knuckle of her smallest toe, Caspian grasped it wiggling it side to side simply because he could, "I will handle the Telmarines, you will handle the Narnians. Two kingdoms, two monarchs, making them into one. And again, we have digressed."

"So?"

"So, I wished to know why you still fear me. I do not hold your life in my hands other than to guard it."

Susan sat up, pulling her foot from his grasp, "You get so mad. And when you're mad you get violent… My experiences at your hands when you're mad have never been pleasant. They usually involve you hurting me – physically, or, well, emotionally. I don't want to be hurt, and I don't want you to hurt me. So I get… I get scared. I can only stand up to you so much Caspian. And when it's just you and me," waving her hand at their room, "in here or anywhere private, all I can think of is how male you are. Of how much it… it hurt when… when you beat me. When you raped me."

There was more but the admission cost Susan too much and Caspian didn't press. He'd pressed too much in the past.

Trying to process that, "I would not hurt you."

"Not now maybe, but I'm still scared," her leg moved, no longer pillowing his head as she knelt over him, "I have no defense against you if you wanted to do it again. None."

"Then I will not do it again, but I cannot swear that I will not be angry Susan, I cannot change my inherent nature," crossing his arms behind his head. "But you must not deny me either. Not without good cause, not when I need you," referring to Nikabrik's death.

"Do you need me now?"

"Yes."

She couldn't hold his gaze, "I don't think I can, not right now Caspian."

"I do not claim to understand, but I shall accept that," trying to be gracious.

"I could," her hand hovered over his stomach, "I could take care of you if you really need it. But…"

Taking her hand in his, lifting it to his mouth, "No. I will simply hold you tonight. Later I will have you."

"Okay," relief washing over her face, Susan got up going to the trunk to pull out a shift. Her nudity disappeared under the soft material, before she came back to him, "Thank you Caspian."

"You are welcome," settling in for an aching night.

XXX

Susan was with Inigo looking over the progress of the siege towers he'd been building.

"It is difficult to do this sort of work in winter m'Lord Susan," Inigo was going on, touching a large split log that was being planned for use, "the moisture is hard to remove from the wood, and sometimes the log will split. Or it warps after the materials are already in place." He sighed, "But we have two towers almost finished despite this. If only we had more suitable lumber, but I know so much must go to keeping the troops warm."

Susan nodded, fiddling with her belt loop, "That's still two more siege weapons than we had before you came here Inigo. That is in of itself an accomplishment. What about the catapults?"

"That is another of those things that requires so much timber m'Lord," tugging off his glove, Inigo scratched at his goatee, "and the same with the ballistae. I believe that two towers will be sufficient, and I will focus more efforts on the catapults and the ballistae, for they will give us the most range and ability to wipe out large masses of the enemy."

"That sounds good, have you thought on the other matter?"

Inigo walked, hands clasped behind his back, "The fire bombs? Yes, I have been experimenting with several chemicals attempting to get a close approximation to the Calormene Lightening Jars, grenades as you call them. And we have also been producing a goodly number of caltrops. The fields only need be sown with them."

"Wonderful," but it wasn't wonderful, Susan just couldn't muster the same enthusiasm for war making that Inigo and Caspian had.

They walked through the camp, more of a small village now than a series of tents the way it had been when Susan had first arrived. The supplies that had come down from the mountains as well as the workers made things easier, and had forced the camp to expand and become more permanent. Snow had been packed down, becoming a thick slurry mud that crunched wetly and sucked at her boots with each step, and Susan wondered if perhaps some better drainage was in order. Disease would be a worry when spring came, for with this many people and in these conditions, Susan knew from her reading that it was easy for dysentery to ruin a good portion of an army.

"How have things been at the How m'Lord?" Inigo broke her reverie.

Glancing at him, "Things are good as can be expected. Oh, there is one thing," trying to find a way to broach the topic with Inigo.

"Oh?"

"Caspian said that you would have been one of his staunchest supporters if he had been crowned."

"This is true," nodding, "and if the situation allowed for it, I would still be. But soon enough he will know of me I am sure. It is hard to hide things from him for long. And I will die," saying it as though that was of no import, like he was commenting on the weather.

"I'm not so sure," waving at a knot of workers who bowed to her quickly. "I've been sounding him out, just as I've been studying you. On principle he may kill you, but when he takes the throne he'll need all the supporters he can get. And since there'll be a purge of Lords –"

"A purge m'Lord?" surprised.

Not wanting to tell him too much of Caspian's plans (well hers really, but she didn't think of them that way.) "Yes a purge. Don't worry he won't be inciting another civil war, but allow me to leave it at that. Since there'll be a purge, Caspian will want those who are loyal, or at least can be depended on to think in the long term, at his side. You would be one of them if you were still with Miraz and you pledged allegiance to Caspian. So how would it be any different if you pledged to him now?"

"I have no control over my House m'Lord," Inigo stopped, cocking his head, "I have nothing I can bargain with that Caspian would want –"

"Your skills are useful Inigo, even without your House backing you at the moment," shrugging. "You have already been useful in many ways. Your intelligence has proved reliable, and you've taken to working to put Caspian on the throne. Even if he doesn't know it. I'm not seeing how there's any conflict here Inigo."

"This is true, but you forget he is Telmarine, and I am theoretically a rival for the throne," eyeing her, "not only that, but I was his torturer. I have seen him in a state that is unacceptable for his pride. Additionally I was the one to put him in that position. I have taken from him. I have even taken his steed, the one thing he counted friend and companion for many years. Did you know that as a boy he used to sleep in Destrier's stall? I knew killing Destrier would throw him off balance, and gave orders for the horse to be killed as soon as possible. It would devastate him, and also take away his advantage."

"It was a tactical decision Inigo," trying to point that out, even though she thought his actions despicable. Understandable, but despicable. "And you were operating on the enemy's side. You had your orders, and you carried them out as best you could. Now, you are on Caspian's side of things, and will carry all your orders out to your utmost, once more. And of your own free will. Yasmina will be safe, no matter what you do. As will your child. I'll see to it myself. Of course, if you try to defect you'll be killed before you take two steps, but that is only at a cost to yourself, not anyone else. So it'd make no sense for you to do that."

Inigo smiled, his teeth white in his black beard, "You have many good points. I must concede that. You are arguing that it is in everyone's best interest that I fulfill my part here, and you are correct. But will Caspian see it that way? I doubt it."

Susan huffed, "It all depends on how he's approached Inigo. You've said it yourself, it's all in the phrasing and timing. Words are a tool –"

"Weapon, words are a weapon, m'Lord, and you are very good with them."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," laughing, "besides Yasmina and Caspian would be cross with you to hear such praise from you."

He swept a small bow, "I am but a humble dandy and flirt, m'Lord."

"Humble my butt," snorting. "Words are a tool, and Caspian is simply rash, not foolish. If put in a way that he can understand and reconcile with his upbringing and his morals, if his sense of justice, of right and wrong can be appealed to, Caspian's quite diplomatic and understanding. It just takes a bit of patience. On his part and mine."

"Patience, not a word I would associate with Caspian."

"Well, you'd be amazed then."

XXX

Rosetta was taking her measurements, the knotted piece of rope slipping between her fingers, "You've lost weight, Su."

"Really?" looking down at herself, Susan squinted. "I still think I'm a bit chubby."

"All that riding has stolen your baby fat Su, I think we should feed you more maybe," straightening up, using a charcoal stick to make a few notations on a scrap of paper.

"No, I don't want to get fat, back in Finchley I had enough problems being the chubby girl," sighing, running her hands over her stomach. Her hips were still a bit too rounded for her tastes. But Caspian seemed to like it at least.

Rosetta merely gave her a look, "You're too skinny Su, men like a bit of meat on a girl. Who wants to cuddle up with a stick?"

"Caspian used to sleep with his sword," pinching the little mound of fat that hadn't disappeared with the strenuous exercise of going from the work camp back to the How.

Rolling her eyes, "Yes well Caspian's sick in the head. And he doesn't sleep with it anymore, now does he? He has you after all… Or," frowning, "does he sleep with it? And why haven't you made him stop that silliness?"

Giggling, "No he doesn't sleep with it anymore. It's propped up beside the bed within easy reach, but that's all." Chagrined suddenly, "And I sleep with a knife near to hand too. God, I'm becoming a Telmarine, aren't I?"

"Oh I should hope not! Besides," waving off Susan's concerns, "I don't know of anyone who's fought who doesn't keep a weapon nearby for security. It's normal I think. And if it isn't – well we're all abnormal together."

Smiling, "Thanks Rosetta," tugging her shift over her head, "And Rosetta…."

"Hmm?" back to her, Rosetta was digging into a huge chest, pulling out bolts of fabric.

"I'm sorry," voice small.

"Oh what for dear?" she turned, looking concerned.

"I'm afraid I've been very terrible to you…"

Cocking her head, Rosetta tugged on one of her braids, foot tapping, "I don't recall you ever being terrible to me."

"When Caspian was –"

Waving that off too, "Nonsense. You were distraught. I was only hurt that you wouldn't let me in to help. But I understand. Morningdew was hurt too, but then again if we had known we would have done something to stop you. And it's all worked out in the end, now hasn't it? So, you just don't worry about that at all." A heavy bolt thumped down on the table, of her little workroom, "Now let's pick out some cloth for your new dresses…"

Getting a good look at the fabric arrayed Susan gasped, "Oh that's too much. And why isn't this being put to good use elsewhere Rosetta? I'm sure this would make good blankets and insulation," not even daring to touch the silks.

Rosetta shook her head, "These are some of the things the weavers from the satyr and minotaur villages sent for you. And for you only. Besides, there's plenty more practical fabrics for those blankets and tents. This is for their Princess. They make it so that you'll be properly attired, as you should be. Those Telmarine dresses have been well enough I suppose, but you need some good Narnian clothing. And you shall have it. Besides, there's that delegation coming, and you need to look perfect. Now, go on, go on," making shooing motions at her, "pick out some of what you like best, and I'll pull out a few patterns and we'll talk shop, hmm?"


	21. Chapter 21

XXX

Section 21

XXX

Susan was combing her hair out, humming tunelessly to herself when the door opened and closed heralding Caspian's arrival. It was late, and he had to have been tired from going over the maps with Glenstorm, Glyrril and Morningdew. She hadn't attended the meeting earlier because she'd been with Inigo while they discussed traps and where to put them. And Susan had to just love being flown from the workers camp back to the How, her gryphon Myriln had sought to impress her and flown at his top speed through the snow gusts and wind to get her 'home' in a timely fashion. Later she'd discuss those things with Caspian, for now she was tired and wanted nothing more than to sink into the thick bedding after she'd finished with her nightly grooming.

"I think it is time I gave you your midwinter's gift," Caspian said without preamble.

His voice startled her, and his words surprised her too, "Excuse me?"

"I have been working on something," he went to the second chest that had been added to their room, that contained the bulk of his possessions, opening it, "and I do not know the customs of Finch-lay, but in Telmarine tradition a gift is presented at midwinter to friends and compatriots. As you are my friend and my wife as well as my compatriot, I felt I should make sure I gave you something doubly good." Pulling out a leather bag, Caspian lay it on the bed, gesturing, "Open it if you please."

"You know, in Finchly we have something called 'Christmas'," turning in her chair, still combing her hair. "It comes about this time of year. It's to celebrate the birth of Christ."

"Christ?"

Susan had to think hard, sometimes Finchly seemed so long ago, so far away, and she'd not thought of it recently, "The Son of God. I suppose a Narnian would say the Son of Aslan. He's the Savior, he died for mankind's sins. But when he was born, three magi came bearing gifts for the newborn Christ. So, we celebrate his birthday and the magi's presents to him by giving gifts to our loved ones and friends."

Caspian was tugging of f his boots, putting them next to his trunk, "Hmm. We simply give presents in midwinter because winter keeps us indoors mostly, and it is something to do. Or if there was any reason to it than that at one point, it is no longer remembered."

"Oh," seeing a rather pragmatic logic to Caspian's sentiments. "I suppose that makes sense."

His studded jerkin was discarded, thrown over the top of the trunk, before he began pulling his shirt off, "Winters are long and boring, so there are some feasts to break up the monotony, though not too many. The larders must be kept well or people starve. Then again," Caspian raked his hands through his continually tousled hair, "many Lords did not care if the peasants starved. Fools, if you starve the peasants then how will there be enough peasants come spring to plant? Or to harvest later? Idiots. Only thinking of the here and now."

Susan giggled at that, but pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to try and quiet the laughter.

Caspian frowned, "What?"

Shaking her head, "Nothing. You're usually a very 'here and now' sort. So hearing you speak of the wellbeing of others and the future is amusing."

"Well it only makes sense Susan," padding around their room barefoot, bare-chested, going to the small stand to glance in the mirror checking his beard. Pouring water into the basin, "I normally plan for the future at least a little bit, things being as they are now has made that difficult. It is hard to think past the next day when there is a war effort. I still cannot believe Miraz has been pushing the troops even now, it is winter. Fool. Someone should have tried to overthrow him by now among the Lords. But they are probably too busy having their parties, giving out gifts to each other, swapping daughters for their sons, making and breaking alliances. All the while the people will starve. Even the soldiers are starving! Glyrril gave me a report that is most disturbing." Shaking his head, splashing water on his face, Caspian began shaving.

"What sort of report?" watching Caspian, deciding that despite the fact that seeing a weapon so close to his vitals frightened her, that the raw masculinity of the simple action of shaving was quite attractive.

Rinsing the blade of stubble before making another pass, "I do not wish to trouble you with that. Allow me to protect you in this small way, hmm?"

"Okay," going over to the bed, Susan hopped on it, laying on her stomach to watch him, chin in her hands, "but I'll just find out later. But for you I'll play the delicate damsel just this once."

Wiping his face off, then rinsing the cloth, Caspian went about cleaning his chest off as was his wont, "You _are_ delicate Susan for all your strength. It is what makes you so alluring. Among other things," his eyes catching hold of hers in the mirror.

"What sorts of things?" curious suddenly. She hadn't ever thought of herself as that, only thought that Caspian felt she was convenient and he'd gotten used to her.

His lips quirked, continuing his nightly ablution , "Your hands. They are small and feminine. Yet I have seen you crack a walnut between the heels of your palms. I have also felt how soft they are even with the callous from your bowstring."

Looking down at her hands, Susan studied them as though seeing them for the first time, "I don't know, they're just hands."

"Hands that bring me pleasure, soothing, and you also use those very same delicate hands to protect our people," his choice of words was accidental Susan was sure, but she was thrilled that he had referred to the Narnians and Telmarines as their people.

Feet kicking the air lazily, "Okay so my hands are nice, what else?"

"You are in an interesting mood tonight," Caspian shucked his trews, giving a final swipe of the wet cloth over his body before wringing it out.

"No one's ever said those sorts of things to me before," Susan shrugged, "no one was ever interested before."

"I find that somehow hard to believe Susan," coming over to her, Caspian sat, the bed creaking softly, before he turned, hand running over her hair. "You are beautiful and any man with eyes to see would know that."

Uncomfortable because he was stirring up memories of Finchly, Susan tried to get him back on track, "I don't care about them anyway, I want to know what _you_ think."

He thought for a moment, and Susan didn't shrink under the scrutiny the way she once would have, "Your back. I like it, it is soft, smooth…." unscarred, but he didn't say that, "It begs for caresses. It curves just right, accentuating how very female you are." Running his finger over her nose, "I like your nose as well. It is a strange nose, and oddly enough, expressive. If a nose could be said to be expressive that is. You scrunch it up this way and that, and it is obvious if it is in humor or disgust or any other sort of emotion. That is very endearing."

Susan covered her nose with both hands, "I hate my nose. It's big."

"And mine is broken many times, so your point would be?"

"Your nose is perfect for your face," stating matter-of-factly, Susan loved Caspian's nose, which was an odd thing she supposed, but she loved it nonetheless. It suited him.

"As yours is perfect for you," his fingertips light as they moved over her forehead and cheeks. "I like these spots you bear, they hide much of the time, but when you are flustered they come out more, as though to draw more notice to your sweet face."

"Freckles, and I hate those too."

Caspian shook his head, "I do not understand why you hate so much about yourself. You are lovely and pleasing to the eye. To a Telmarine you would be kept as a pristine flower, a monument to beauty."

"Hmm, well I think you beat them to the part about keeping me pristine," snorting indelicately, "I'm as far from that as can be."

"No you are not," it was firm. "I meant in a manner to display you as artwork. Like the dellilyum gardens. An object of art, draped in cloth of gold and the like."

Making a face, "Ew. That sounds scratchy. And unpleasant."

"I am sure it would be for someone as natural as you," leaning over Caspian dragged the leather bag closer to them, "Now, have I marveled over your beauty enough to satisfy you or do you wish more?"

"You're not a very romantic sort you know," Susan rolled onto her back, laying her head on his thigh.

"Romantic? I was not trying to be romantic," shaking his head, hand running up and down her throat gently, "I was merely telling you what I thought. If I am to be romantic you must warn me ahead of time. For I shall have to ask someone how to do that to your satisfaction. Romance is for children, not men and women, and I never had time to play such childish games. I am a man of action. Words have a use this is true, but I do not like to use them too much when actions speak just as loudly, and just as decisively."

"I was always taught that romance was what love was about, or was to be hoped for," sighing. "Some dashing prince rides in and saves the day, sweeps the girl off her feet and they go live happily ever after. And he is always perfect and then they have perfect little babies who don't make dirty nappies and never cry."

Caspian leaned down, eyes crinkled so he could look at her upside down, "And did you truly believe such an… _odd_ thing?"

Susan could tell from his tone he thought it more than odd, more like 'absurd' or 'stupid'.

"Well… I don't know," blinking up at him. "I just was taught that there's a wedding with white dresses and black tuxes and a father gives the daughter away while bells ring and people throw rice."

"Throw rice?" confused.

"I don't know, I think it was for good luck…"

"Probably fertility," Caspian corrected. "Or that is what I think."

Susan thought about it a moment and nodded, "Probably. But I don't know what I believed. I never thought about it. Marriage and babies was an eventuality, not a probability. So romance is what men are supposed to do to woo a girl so that she'll stay with him and have 'good' times to think about when he comes home late at night, drunk from staying out with his friends. Or his mistress."

Caspian nodded, "I can see the logic. I still think it… foolish. But I am a prince. And I do believe I have swept you off your feet at least once. And if I have not, you could stand up and I could do it right now. Perfect babies? I do not think such a thing exists. That is why there are such things as nannies and nurses. Let them handle all that fuss."

"What if I don't want a nurse to raise my babies? What if I want to be part of that?"

Shrugging, "They will be our children, you will be a queen and can do as you please. So long as it does not interfere with our marriage bed I leave it up to your discretion."

Susan giggled noticing something, "I just realized you didn't say anything about being perfect."

"Perfection is in the eye of the beholder Susan, it is not my place to say whether I am or not," his lips pressed to the side of her nose, "for I am just a man. Now if you think I am perfect then that is your business. And if you do not think me perfect, well then I shall have to remedy that…"

Laughing, Susan tipped her head back seeking his chin, "My-my my Prince you are very humble to say so."

"You only said the prince was dashing and perfect – there was no mention of humility, and I will never dash, too unseemly," kissing the corners of her lips, "and as I said perfection is in the eye of the beholder. So, I do believe I have covered most of your requirements? And now you shall do what I require and open your present."

Rolling over again, Susan sat up, crossing her legs and plopping the bag in her lap, "Pushy pushy. Okay, let's see what's in here. Hopefully there's nothing slimy."

Caspian leaned back on his elbows, watching her, "You will have to open it and find out."

"I'm getting to it!" sticking her tongue out at him, making him smile at the childish gesture.

Unlacing the ties, Susan peeled the leather back to reveal a wooden box that was polished to a high gloss with wax. She wondered where he'd found the time to make it, but Caspian was always whittling at something when his hands weren't directly occupied. Lifting the lid, scrunching her eyes closed, wanting to draw out the anticipation as long as possible, Susan took a deep breath before opening her eyes to take a peek. Mouth dropping open upon catching sight of the boxes' contents, Susan glanced at it then up to Caspian and back several times.

"I thought you could use some more hairpins, they look good on you," crossing his legs at the ankles, "and I have yet to get you any baubles, so I hope that one will do until I can remedy that properly at a later date."

Susan picked up the necklace that was made up entirely of thin wooden leaves hooked together, being careful with it, "Caspian you know I don't do the pretty things thing… but this is… This is beautiful and better than some stuffy clunky thing." Running her fingers over a leaf reverently, "It's so lightweight. Caspian, I can't wear this. It's a work of art."

"Then think of it as a piece of art for a piece of art if you must," Caspian shrugged. "I like seeing you wear things I have made for you. Or using things I have made for you," it came out easy, but Susan took note of the hesitation on the words, of the guarded look in his eyes.

Putting the necklace back in its case gently, "I like wearing the things you make me. They make me feel pretty."

"Pretty is for little girls," watching as Caspian closed his eyes, just resting for a moment, "and you are a woman. If you had been in a Telmarine home, many Lords and their sons would duel for the privilege of bedding you. And you may have even been courted for marriage. Which is rare."

Susan didn't understand that, "So most of the sons are bastards?"

Caspian got better situated, "A bastard is when a Lord or one of his sons gets a peasant or child of a peasant pregnant. A mistress or favored Lady gives birth to the sons who will inherit. And a wife is usually little more than a bargaining chip or proof of alliance. What I meant is that you would have been _courted_. Not that you would have had any say in the outcome, or who your guardian would have picked for you to wed."

"Then what good is courting then Caspian if it's so meaningless?" setting her present aside and crawling to lay beside him.

His arm came around her shoulders pulling her in close, "It shows an appreciation for beauty. What is life without beauty?"

"That's a pretty hedonistic outlook, don't you think?" rubbing her cheek over his shoulder, nail flicking over his now erect nipple.

Covering her hand, stilling her movement, "I suppose so. It is how Telmarines allow a certain amount of softness in their world possibly. Indulge the senses, all of them, sight, sound, scent, touch."

"You're not like them," she'd been figuring that out, comparing Inigo to Caspian whom she'd thought was the epitome of Telmarine, and had come to the conclusion that Caspian was only mimicking Telmarine thought patterns, and doing so quite poorly. He was too much of a thinker for it, he had too much empathy to sink to the levels of pure indulgence the way his counterparts would.

"Of course not," twisting his neck so he could look at her, "I am Crown Prince, I must think of more than the simple here and now. Besides deathsport was not to my tastes."

Susan almost slipped up and said 'I know' but she had to remind herself to not let him know how much she really knew about him. Because Caspian would ask how, and what would she say? That she had Inigo in custody and they spoke of him often? No that wouldn't do at all.

So she changed the subject, "You know, I didn't get you a present for midwinter. I didn't think of it."

"You were not aware of my peoples customs," dismissive.

"Well maybe I could still give you something?" snuggling closer, leg sliding over his.

"Oh? And what would that something be?" perking up, he'd sounded sleepy before her offer.

Leaning up to kiss his jaw, "How about anything you like?"

He made a little sound low in his throat, "There are many things I like."

"Then take your pick…" feeling brazen, but Caspian liked it when she did that, and Susan no longer felt so silly for offering her body up to him. There was only a small twinge now and again, but those were rare and none came for her now. Little Susan Pevensie wasn't so proper as she'd once been, and she found it rather freeing, secure in the knowledge that Caspian wouldn't think less of her, he would only desire her touches and pleasure, appreciate the sentiments of her want.

Hand snaking under her shift, lifting it his hand cupped her bottom, finger sliding between the cheeks, "Anything, there are many 'anything's I could pick."

Blushing under his now ardent gaze, "Then you should pick one and we'll go from there."

"Grab the oil," it was a soft and rough around the edges.

Slipping from his embrace, Susan went to her clotheschest, pulling out the half empty bottle, swishing it, "We might need more soon."

Caspian had thrown the covers to the end of the bed, lacing his fingers together and pushing outwards to crack his joints, "We have not used it all that often, and it is half full."

Flushing brighter, Susan chewed her lip, "We could use it more often then."

"Yes, yes we most certainly could," interest sparked, but it never took much, his mouth twisting into a naughty grin, "As often as you could beg for it, then it would be emptied quickly. Now there is just the matter of making you ask for it, no?"  
Tossing the bottle on the bed after making sure the cap was secure, and Susan pulled her shift over her head, discarding it, "Then I suppose you'll have to work on making me beg."

"Have I ever told you that you talk too much?" Caspian was kneeling on the bed, and he grabbed her, dragging Susan to him.

Squeaking, hands going to his shoulders for balance, "Actually you're the one who has a motor mouth."

"Motor mouth?" cocking his head, then he shook it, "Never mind. I have much more important things to do than wonder at your strange turn of phrase!"

Susan's giggle was cut short, the cool oil falling over her breasts suddenly before the bottle was set aside carefully. Caspian's calloused palms began rubbing the oil in, making her skin slick and shiny, eliciting a sigh from her lips. Sinking back, Susan let Caspian do whatever he wanted, while her own hands ran over his hips and arms encouraging him with soft sounds. A nip at her stomach forced her eyes to flutter open, to catch sight of Caspian dipping down to blow a jet of air over her sex. Parting her thighs, Susan felt her insides tightening in anticipation, moisture already collecting and making her feel sticky. Hot shivers when Caspian's warm breath brushed her lips, but he held still forcing her to simply wait.

And she did try. Really she did.

Squirming when Caspian hadn't done more than just breathe on her gently, keeping her legs held open with his slippery hands, "Caspian!"

"Yes?" drawing the word out, quirking a brow, as though he weren't fully aware of how maddening he could be.

Hand flailing, Susan reached down for her sex, parting her petals, finger sliding over the mauve flesh, "I thought you were going to unwrap your present…"

Chuckling, Caspian pushed her hand away, "And I shall, which means you may not open it for me."

Scrunching her eyes closed, Susan balled her hands into fists, clenching the pillow by her head, growling, "Okay, fine. I can wait you out."

But she couldn't and they both knew that.

A soft nuzzle, just a tease, and it took all her willpower to stay still. The expectation was killing Susan, her toes wiggling, and Caspian just continued the torture, touching her just enough to keep her interest but no more than that, his tongue darting out to give her a tiny swipe from bottom to top. Whimpering, all Susan wanted was to wrap her legs around his shoulders, bury her hands in his hair, and feel his tongue inside her and his fingers touching her until she'd scream his name.

"Caspian," whining, hips moving side to side after he'd pulled away the last time, he hadn't even parted her petals yet!

Caspian sat up, letting her go, much to her chagrin, "I will not be rushed in opening my present thank you kindly. All this rushing you are trying to force on me is making me less inclined to even open my present at all. In fact," sounding bored, arms crossed, "I think I shall just go ahead and go to sleep."

Screeching, Susan bolted upright, "No! No no! You can't _do_ that to me! Caspian!"

"Oh, and why can I not do as I wish? It is my present as I recall…"

Pushing at Caspian's shoulders, crawling all over him so he flopped over, "No no, you can't, you just can't leave me waiting like that, it's inhumane!"

"Hmph, well you should not rush me then," tilting his head this way and that, avoiding her questing mouth. "Now if you are through rushing me I shall continue. Or I can go to sleep – you decide."

Grumping, Susan rolled onto her back, legs spread, "Okay okay, you win," her skin felt too hot, Caspian was just toying with her, she knew that but couldn't help the fact that now she'd decided on having sex with him that is what she expected. And what she'd damn well get even if she had to truss him up to get it.

"Of course," it was a purr in her ear as Caspian bent double so he could breathe it into her hair.

Shivering, Susan forced her body to obey her and simply wait. Again. She was slightly more successful this time. That is until Caspian finally delved his tongue into her entrance, sucking on the nectar there. Shuddering, Susan's legs fought his grip, trying to clamp around his head, her fingers tangling in his hair pulling him closer as her hips rose off the bed.

Caspian's muscles strained as he restrained her, feigning irritation, "Susan, here you are rushing me again! That is it," hopping off the bed, he grabbed his belt, yanking his sheaths from it and returning to her, "you have forced me to do this."

Startled, through the fog in her eyes Susan only had a moment to register him taking hold of her wrists before he looped the sturdy leather around them, tying them tight. Then Caspian straddled her, leaning over her head, affixing one end of the belt to their bedframe. Without thinking Susan opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say anything, Caspian cupped the back of her head, their position affording him the ability to push his cock into her mouth. He groaned, which she echoed, tasting the salt of his smooth skin, her tongue swirling over and around him, sucking hungrily.

"Do not waste a drop," the admonition a moan, pumping his hips, hands braced above her head.

Loosening her throat muscles, Susan tried to pull more of his prick into her mouth, swallowing, tongue lashing the underside of his cock, breathing through her nose. It didn't take Caspian long, and he pulled his hips back enough so she'd taste his semen rather than have it simply hit the back of her throat like usual. Whimpering at the pungent thickness, Susan suckled at it swallowing slowly, drawing his seed from him. With a soft pop Caspian freed his manhood from her greedy lips, crawling down her body, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth, sweeping in, his weight resting on her lightly.

Susan's legs, the only part of her body free to touch him at will, wrapped around his thighs, neck arching to maintain the kiss as long as possible.

Growling her disappointment when Caspian withdrew, "Did you swallow it all down?"

Giving him a look, "You know I did."

"Good," grinning wickedly.

Gasping when Caspian flipped her over onto her stomach, the length of his swordbelt enabling him to maneuver her with ease, Susan felt more oil splashed along her back and hips. Sighing in contentment when Caspian massaged the muscles of her back deeply, working the oil in good, but her body was buzzing, still praying for him to just fuck her already, Susan squirmed, arching into his hands. Tugging against the hold of his belt, Susan tried to lift herself to her knees, but Caspian only shoved her back down, his forearm wrapping around her neck, not tightly, but enough for her to acknowledge the gentle threat. His arm flexed, squeezing and she felt fingers moving to her behind, and she could only squeak when two forced their way into her hole all at once rather than the slow working he'd given her the few times he'd sodomized her before.

Up to his knuckles, Susan's heart rate increased as Caspian continued thrusting his digits in and out, and spots swam across her vision. Bucking against his weight, Susan wanted more and less, the violation wonderful and horrible. It was like this sometimes, but Caspian hadn't ever combined both forms of dominance at once, and the addition of restraint made Susan unsettled, leaving her no choice but to trust him explicitly.

"I want you stretched wide for me," it was almost conversational, his voice muffled by the hair at the nape of her neck, his chest angled to press on her back, driving more air from her lungs. "I want to see this," adding another finger, making her wince, "waiting for me, entirely ready."

Panting, Susan rested her cheek on his bicep, accepting what he wanted to do. And willingly at that, because yes it stung and was vaguely uncomfortable, but it still felt incredibly good when he did it. His arm went away, letting her catch her breath as more oil was added, making it easier for him to finger her bottom the way he wanted. Clenching around the intrusion instinctively, Susan sighed in relief as the oil soothed some of the discomfort, her arms stretched above her head, the flat of Caspian's other palm pushing into the small of her back.

Unable to stop moaning, and Caspian added his pinky. He lay back over her again, forearm returning to its' place, constricting her airflow. Lips moved over her shoulders, Caspian growling proprietarily, and Susan could feel his freshly shaved cheek scrape over her shoulder blade. Susan was sure she was being tortured, but she didn't really care anymore, only able to focus on each sensation as they swamped her mind. Modesty and propriety was burnt away, destroyed and it's minor dregs thrown to the dogs, no longer serving their purpose. All that was left was Susan, writhing, her sex drenched, a mass of nerve endings that Caspian played like an instrument. A scream squeezed from her throat, when Caspian rotated his wrist, pushing the tip of his thumb into her tender body. Bucking, thrashing, unable to fight Caspian's firm hold, Susan found herself quaking in orgasm unexpectedly. She no longer questioned why it felt so good, it just did, and she accepted it.

If she was a whore, oh well, it mattered not at all anymore, because she was Caspian's whore, and his wife, and it was all for him that she shuddered.

His thick, hard length pushed against her hip, and Susan whined, wanting more from Caspian than just his hand, but didn't have the air to say so. And still he continued plundering her body, and then it stopped suddenly. Crying out, angry at being bereft of his touch, Susan thrashed. Straining Susan managed to roll onto her side, the leather twisting with the motion, and saw Caspian looking down at her, his eyes dark.

Working saliva into her dry mouth, "Please."

"Please?" voice lowering.

"Caspian, please," trying to get her muscles to obey her. Struggling to kneel, she turned to present her back to him, knees braced far apart, "Please…."

He grasped each of her cheeks in his hands, spreading them, "Please you say?"

Flexing, needing to be filled, "Yes, please Caspian…" it was piteous.

"Hmm," Caspian scooted closer, nudging her loosened pucker with his tip, "do you want something Susan?"

A tear of frustration leaked from the corner of her eye, trying to move back enough to feel more than just the light touch of his cock on her, "Yes, please Caspian. Please….?"

Then he let her go, "No."

She had to have misheard him, and Susan looked at him over her shoulder, "Caspian? Please?"

Shaking his head, "No."

"Caspian!" sobbing, tears threatening to fall, Susan squirmed around, seeing how serious he was. "No, Caspian, please, please I.. I need you." Falling forward, there wasn't enough slack in her bindings to reach for him, "Caspian I need you, please, I need…" sniffing, the threatening tears coming out in a torrent, "I need you in me. I need your cock in my body, in… in my ass. Please, please Caspian don't do this to me," crying brokenly. She did need him, he'd worked her up and up and up to a fever pitch and she thought she'd really die if he wouldn't take her.

Fingers cupped her chin, lifting her head, "Do you?"

"Please, Caspian, anything, please just, just _take_ me," incapable of keeping herself from begging.

"What will you do for me then? Hmm?"

Licking her lips, "Anything."

"Anything?"

"Yes, anything please Caspian, anything you want…"

"Well then, that settles it does it not?"

Not understanding, Susan just blinked, her eyelashes clumped with tears, her body screaming ceaselessly for him, "I beg you Caspian. _Please_."

Caspian laid down, but not near enough for her to get to the part of his anatomy she really needed, "Come here."

Whimpering, Susan tried to figure out how to do as he requested, "I can't…"

He frowned, not displeased exactly, but Susan couldn't really read Caspian's expression, "Why not?"

"I can't reach," jerking at her bonds, twisting around again and again trying to get so her hips were over his.

Hand coasting up the inside of her thigh, touching her sex, "Are you so desperate Susan that you cannot think?"

"Yes," coming close to howling the word.

"Mindless?"

Nodding, jerking at the leather, straining, "Yes!"

"Get on your back," fingers stroking her wetness, rubbing at her clit.

In a flash, Susan flopped on her back, chest heaving, needing him more than air at this point. How could he be so cruel as to deny her? Caspian took hold of the backs of her thighs, pushing her knees towards her chest, dragging a moist trail with his tongue along the inside of her leg, before driving it into her femininity. Keening, teetering on the brink, Caspian kept her there, his tongue swirling this way and that, darting down occasionally to lap at her pucker before moving to suck on her pearl. A riot of input crashed on her brain, and she couldn't fight it, only crying for more. Writhing, shaking, twisting, flexing and straining, Susan screamed when Caspian stopped, dragging his body up between her legs.

Gasping, Susan's vision was blurry from tears still, her throat raw, she could see Caspian's face, swimming into focus as he leaned over her. His thick girth inched into her body, stretching her and filling her up. Groaning in relief, Susan forced her muscles to relax, allowing Caspian to move as deeply as he wanted. Fingers were digging into her thighs, and blinking away her tears, Susan saw the intense concentration on his face, his bottom lip rolled inwards, teeth biting it firmly.

Moaning, "Caspian."

"Yes?" it was a grunting sigh, his stomach taut.

"Thank you," whispering, flexing around him.

Caspian moved steadily, his thrusts firm but not demanding, their bodies meeting as he claimed her. Laying back and letting him take care of her Susan, sighed, feeling complete finally. It was almost drowsy, but pleasure was building, and building until it crescendoed, sweeping her down into the depths of bliss. Coming up, arching as though she were breaking free of water, Susan gasped, eyes going wide as the feeling didn't stop there, Caspian's cock slipping in and out of her over and over again, and she could only let it wash over her again and again.

Eyes rolling back in her head, Susan almost fainted, her vision darkening, and Caspian jerked once, twice, and then once more, moaning long and low, his hips pressed tightly to the backs of her thighs, holding himself deep inside her secret place. His grip went lax, letting her legs slide down his sides and hips, and he leaned forward, catching his weight on his elbows. Head hanging, Caspian panted, sweat a slick sheen on his skin. Hand flopping, Caspian fumbled for the knot of leather around her wrists, and Susan wanted to touch him so badly. Relieved when her hands were free, Susan touched Caspian's chin, then his jaw, stroking him lovingly.

"That," he ground out, a droplet of sweat falling from the tip of his nose, "was the best midwinter's present I have ever received."

The giggle was tired, but heartfelt, "Glad you liked it."

"Mmph," joints creaked and cracked as he slumped onto his side.

Susan scooted around gathering her strength to reach for their pillows and blankets, and she managed to lift Caspian's head enough for her to slide one of the pillows under it.

He cracked an eyelid, "You are wonderful."

Flushing scarlet, Susan ducked her head, "So are you."

"Mmph, come here quickly, I wish to sleep, and I must have you in my arms for that…"

Tucking the covers up around them, Susan wiggled into his arms, rolling so she was pressed into his chest. Sighing, Susan waited for sleep to claim her while Caspian's breathing deepened, settling into a steady rhythm. Many things in her life were incomprehensible, but Susan knew that if Caspian really believed the things he said about her, that she'd manage somehow, because maybe he really did love her as much as she loved him. And who needed Prince Charming or some perfect dashing prince anyway when there was a _man_ like Caspian around anyway?


	22. Chapter 22

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Section 22

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Lurrulg almost bowled Caspian over, his great frame barely whacking him, but Caspian hadn't noticed the minotaur's presence so when the great beast turned quickly, Caspian found his shoulder clipped. It was more of a slam than a clip, but Caspian's pride wouldn't allow it to be called aught else. Regaining his footing from years of honed reflexes, Caspian glowered at the minotaur.

"Watch where you're going!" snapping, then Lurrulg took note of who he'd bumped into.

Cocking his head, "I could say the same for you."

Bovine growling, his black nose twitching in irritation, "Your Highness."

"Last I checked, yes," brushing his jerkin, straightening it out. "Where are you going in such haste then minotaur that you could not look where you were going?"

The minotaur shifted, his cloven hooves ringing on stone, "Nowhere Your Highness."

"I doubt that," jerking his chin at the cask on the massive shoulder, "unless you are making off with some of the stores?"

"No Your Highness."

The hall was busy, Narnians bustling about with greater than usual industry, and Caspian was curious. He had yet to stop anyone to make an inquiry as to what was going on, and he was sure he'd spied new Narnians amongst the usual number. It didn't add up, and Caspian as the leader of the war effort felt he should have been informed as to the goings on at the How. Of late it seemed as though he'd been sidelined, kept in the dark except by Glenstorm, and even his trusted second hadn't been entirely forthcoming.

Raising a brow, "Then tell me Lurrulg, what is it that has everyone going about in such a rush, yourself included?"

It wasn't a request.

"There's a meeting in the Stone Table Room," the words were dragged out, reluctant, communicating that it wasn't something he was supposed to know about.

"Really now? And what," resting a palm on the pommel of his sword, ignoring those who had to squeeze past them, "would this _meeting_ be about, hmm?"

"I have work to do, and don't have the time to waste on you." A lengthy pause, "Your Highness."

And Lurrulg sailed past Caspian, this time bumping him on purpose, but Caspian was ready for it and would not budge. Hand slamming out, Caspian caught hold of Lurrulg's arm, fingers digging in, the momentum against his rock solid footing forcing Lurrulg to go off balance himself as he spun a step. The huge cask on his shoulder slipped but, Lurrulg caught it in time, and put it on the floor gingerly.

"And I have asked you a direct question minotaur, do not forget who your King will be," brooking no more quibbling.

Drawing himself up, "I am Narnian Your Highness, you are Telmarine. You will be King of Telmar, not Narnia. Her Highness will be my Queen, and as this has nothing to do with fighting, you can't order me about." Bowing perfunctorily, Lurrulg picked the cask up, "Now Your Highness, I have much to do."

Feeling pole-axed, what did Lurrulg _mean_ by he wouldn't be Lurrulg's King? Since when was Susan considered that important? Well, scratching his chin, Susan was important to the Narnians – but this… marginalization. That wasn't acceptable at all! It was probably just Lurrulg that felt that way, trying to comfort himself. That and a few other Narnians probably, there couldn't be that many who felt that he wasn't important enough to follow. Then again he hadn't been able to be as involved of late as was his preference. Growling to no one in particular Caspian turned his feet to the Stone Table Room. He had to find out what this delegation was about, and why he hadn't been informed.

No one spared him a glance, but the closer he got to the Stone Table Room, the more Narnians there were packing the halls. Heart giving a shudder, Caspian tried to dispel the memories of the last time he'd been in that room, not wanting to think of Susan, stretched out, about to die. But the memories wouldn't stop niggling at the back of his mind, and Caspian found himself coming close to drawing his sword. Elbowing through the crowd that was packed so tight no one could move through it near the entrance to the Room, the Narnians only moving out of his way upon recognizing him.

Stumbling into the Room, which wasn't so dense with people, but was still a bit much for such a place, the general populace of the How being kept outside of the proceedings, Caspian ducked back, pressing his shoulders to the wall. Listening, trying to take stock of the situation. Susan wore a dress made of what had to be Narnian silk, the colour shimmering in different shades of pink with each movement despite the fact that the cloth was green. Her shoulders were bare, and her hair was pinned up with the pins he'd made for her, and on her neck rested her necklace. She was beautiful, his wife, every inch the gracious and lovely Princess.

Settling in to listen, Caspian didn't want to break up the meeting and possibly undermine Susan's asserting of her powers and rights. It wasn't like the delegation was there for more than to simply meet their future Queen. Probably. Hopefully. There was no way it was more important than that, and he didn't want to overshadow Susan. This was her moment, he decided.

Caspian, waited for the people to settle down. He'd only just come in at the beginning it seemed.

"I'm glad you've all come," Susan was sitting on a chair that was draped with purple velvet, "but I'm not sure what it is that you wish to speak to me about. Really Caspian should be here."

A Red dwarf stepped forward, curtseying low, "Your Highness, we wished to pay tribute to you and thank you for your efforts so far in this war."

Susan looked surprised, her expression open, "It's not me you should be thanking, but Caspian. He's worked tirelessly, and sweated and bled along with your fellows for the freedom of all Narnians - both of Telmar and old Narnia."

That warmed Caspian, hearing her clear praise. He _had_ worked hard, and at first for a very short time it had only been for himself, but as he'd worked side by side with Narnians, he had learned to love them. It was his wish to abolish the policies that allowed crime and discrimination against the Narnians. Everyone deserved to have rights under his law.

Even women.

There was a soft murmur, the female dwarf waving her hand to hush her fellow delegates, "Your praise for the Prince Consort is admirable, Your Highness. But it isn't because of him that we're here. There has been no Narnian monarch in almost a thousand years, no proper Narnian monarch that is. And there has been some infighting amongst the villages and towns."

A worried frown tugged at Susan's full lips, "Fighting? No, there shouldn't be any of that. Why would there be such a thing?"

"Because without full temporal state power Your Highness, many argue that we shouldn't be supporting the Consort as War Leader," a minotaur piped up, "To be able to wield it properly, it would be best if you were crowned, that way your Consort could command the War Parties with impunity. Otherwise, many towns threaten to withdraw their aid."

"I don't," pausing, trying to collect herself visibly, "I don't follow."

And neither did Caspian. What in the name of the blazes did they mean? Consort? Who was the Consort? Him? Absurd. (And Caspian really did think it absurd, he'd only tried to grasp that part of the conversation, believing it some sort of jest.) But fighting, that was serious, he only wanted willing soldiers and artisans in his numbers, the more the better, true, but Caspian wouldn't force anyone to fight.

"Only a monarch can levy soldiers, Your Highness."

"Then I'll have someone go get Caspian, he is to be your King, but if you feel that his status as Crown Prince isn't sufficient," leaning forward, Susan glanced over her shoulder, signaling to what looked like Jiroon, "to lead you, then he should be crowned immediately as per whatever traditions you believe necessary."

The delegates shifted around, uncomfortable, before the Red dwarf spoke again, "That is unnecessary Princess Susan, his role is not that of monarch of Narnia. We, we will not accept a Telmarine as a King when we have a Narnian Queen-In-Waiting."

Caspian felt the color drain from his face. And Susan swayed, her grip going tight on the armrest of her chair. How _dare_ they?! He was their Crown Prince! It was _he_ who had enabled them to even have a driving force for this war! And it was _he_ who could force the Telmarines to accept the Narnians – not Susan! To be sure if he had perished, Susan would have managed and then some, but as things stood – no! No this was an insult and an outrage! Moving to take a step forward, to break this treason up, nipping it in the bud, Susan beat him to the chase.

Pushing herself to her feet, Susan's voice crackled, "He is your Prince! It is Caspian, not I, who bears King Krispen's blood in his veins! And it is Caspian who has led you. I am his wife, by tradition and law, and it is Caspian whom this conversation should be taking place with, not I. No," cutting her hand through the air, "I am not your Queen. Not until Caspian is your King as is his right by law and blood. Aslan crowned his line, and it is his line who must rule. I'll hear no more of this!" Susan stepped down from the small dais that her chair was situated on, swirling her skirts, before throwing a look at them, "I am ashamed of you. Here I had thought that you merely wished to discuss the war effort, not petty politicking fit for the Telmarine Council. You have wasted my time, insulted my husband, and I will not tolerate it. I am too angry with you to speak properly with you any longer. You shall have to excuse me, for I don't wish to speak out of turn. I adjourn this meeting until an hour hence!"

No one budged, and a figure stepped forward, taking hold of Susan's elbow, halting her flight. Words were exchanged, but Caspian thought he had to be wrong. He just had to be. There was a man by her side, a _human_ man. And it most certainly wasn't Caspian. It was Inigo.

"Narnians, please, my fellow subjects," Inigo's voice rang out, "You must excuse the Princess her ire. She had been under the impression that you were here merely to discuss what further steps were to be taken. Spring fast approaches, and if the Usurper is to be put aside, and the Telmarine and Narnian peoples to be freed," striding to stand before the dais, arms outstretched, "and is that not of greater import? Then we must continue to work together. As one people."

What was that…. That… Caspian swayed, his back hitting the wall. Incredulous, Caspian gawked. How did Inigo get there? Why was he there? And _why_ was he speaking to Caspian's people? (Well Susan's it seemed, and that was a harsh blow.) As though Inigo had some right, Inigo approached the minotaur.

A brave action indeed, for no love at all was lost between Telmarine and minotaur. Especially Telmarine aristos and minotaurs.

"Sir Krilten, does it matter who leads the war at this juncture, or what politics will be sought in the future, while there are soldiers on the frontline," for a moment Caspian thought Inigo would actually _touch_ the proud elder, but he didn't, merely making a loose motion, "who have decided to give their honour and lives for your children's freedom? I do not believe there is a single soldier who has fought and bled with Caspian, who sees him as anything less than their hope and salvation. They have decided to fight of their own free will. Have any levies been made? Any drafts? No?"

No there certainly hadn't, not to his knowledge. But there had been _requests,_ ones that were clearly that, and not veiled demands, for supplies and manpower. Nothing more, for Caspian would only use persuasion and promises, knowing that for his men to follow him properly, they had to be there because they chose it. Not because they were pushed to it.

"No there have not aristo, that much I'll say for the Consort," nodding, "But you won't trap me with fine words. The Kino clan has already pledged to the Telmarine, but Merkay and Brinto clans have only come because of Her Highness. Aslan has given us a gift, a sign that He is with us still. A sign that He wants us to back this war. We need a Queen, a Narnian one. And your Telmarine Crown Prince isn't that at all."

There was an unladylike curse, and it carried far, "Fuck!" then Susan was storming up to Krilten, standing toe to toe with him, having to tip her head all the way back to look him in the eye, "Now you see here – you insult Caspian, you insult me. And that also means you insult Aslan, or didn't you think? Aslan crowned his line, deeming them the most worthy, yet here you are questioning His judgment. You make a mockery of all that's been lost so far. Of the lives taken, of the sacrifices made! If you need your damned monarch so bad that you can't stop politicking and this tomfoolery – then fine! _Fine_, I'll give you your Queen. But only with a Narnian King." Caspian knew that tone quite well. It boded ill for Krilten, and anyone else who got in her way, "Jiroon! Jiroon, find my lord husband, and we'll get this idiocy over with at once! And then we'll talk about supplies, manpower, and more important things! I thought only the Lords were capable of such moronic loutishness!"

A flashing swirl of skirts, and Susan ascended the dais, making a throne out of a simple chair, "If this is done, then I expect to _never_ hear such words from anyone's mouths ever again." Her voice wasn't strident, but it was controlled, steady, and hardened, "Caspian has been here from the start. He has worked just as hard as anyone else here. He has been tortured, and still he works for you all. For everyone. Do not demean yourselves, myself, or him, with such… such…" Inigo stepped up, laying his hand on hers, calming her. "Where have you been Sir Krilten? Hiding in your mountain villages? The Kino clan and many other soldiers, artisans, and civilians – they thought ahead. They showed their mettle by backing Caspian. By realizing that nothing will happen if someone doesn't do something. So tell me," looking out at the ten Narnians, the heads of their clans or villages, "what have _you_ been doing while others took a long view? You have waited for a sign from Aslan. You believe me to be that sign. Well I think you missed the first sign: Caspian. Now. Were there actual things of import to discuss, or did you only seek to undermine those who have sought to protect you all?"

Jiroon had managed to thread through the crowd, and bumped up against Caspian's thigh, "M'Lord, I did not expect you to be so near."

Caspian glowered, "It appears that it is to be my lot that I cannot hold onto a throne. Any throne."

"I don't think so Your Highness," Jiroon's voice was soft, "they only fear you. They're uncertain, for these are uncertain times. Do not be over angry with them for their fears as out of place as they may be."

Settling back, Caspian continued to watch the travesty unfold.

"Princess Susan," a gryphon, his claws clicking as he rose to sit on his haunches, "we mean no offense. And while I am sure you are right, for you speak with wisdom, but you must remember – your husband is Telmarine not just by birth. His blood has been diluted. That is no fault of his, and I and my Nests accept that. But we must have a truer Narnian to rule us. The Telmarines will not follow you, not in numbers. It is the same with Caspian, we cannot follow him with ease. He has given us hope, true, but you have given us faith." He raised a paw, holding a single claw up, a very human gesture, "We do not question his right to co-rule with you. But there are two kingdoms here. Narnian and Telmarine. To allay all concerns we must have you as our Queen. And Prince Caspian, we will gladly accept as your Consort and the War Leader. But we cannot accept him as King until you are crowned Queen of Telmar first. As a gesture of goodwill if you please. Not enough of us have seen him at work, and too many will worry that he will be as his forefathers. Please, we mean no offense."

Susan sighed, shifting in her seat, "What if I had not come, what of that? What if Caspian had simply regained the throne, what then?"

"I believe," the gryphon glanced to his fellows seeking support, "that then if he had made overtures of his good intentions, that then we could accept him as our King. But there would still be trepidation Your Highness. There have been too many years of subjugation for things to be so easily forgiven. Please Your Highness, you bridge the great chasm, and where you both shall join, the gap will be filled, allowing our two peoples to blend and become one."

She thought over it for long moments, and Caspian held his breath, wondering. What would she do? And what would he do? There was no way the Council would accept any of this, not without a fight, and probably not for generations.

"I must discuss this with Caspian," it was a gusty sigh. "I apologize but the accommodations we have are few, as the How is almost filled to capacity, but please, make yourselves at home." Rising, Susan inclined her head, dismissing the crowd, "Tomorrow we shall reconvene, after I have had time to think on this, and speak with Caspian. Good evening."

There were murmurs of dissent, but the heads bowed low, before filing away. The rest of the crowd dispersed, but much more slowly, and Caspian watched as Susan turned to stare at the image of Aslan, Inigo by her side. They were speaking softly, and Caspian wanted nothing more than to interrupt, to rage and shout. But he wouldn't do it with an audience. Jiroon's quiet support by his side was a steadying force, keeping him from rash action until his anger had settled down to a slow smolder rather than a raging blaze.

Susan had become a terrifying force to be reckoned with, and Caspian was unsure how to protect her. She wouldn't last more than a week once he claimed the Telmarine throne, some Lord would have her killed at once. Not merely for the transgressions of violating Telmarine law and tradition, but for her power. If she were to be Queen of the Narnians, and he a mere Consort, she'd be too powerful for the Council to tolerate. A threat like Susan, who'd be able to control and command the loyalty of an entire population would be too much. There was no comfort for Caspian, for Susan was about to die, even if it would take time, because the moment, the very moment, that Caspian presented her to the Council as his Queen and wife – her life was forfeit. The Stone Table Room was the sight of her death warrant being signed, just as she had almost died here before. Heart tearing, angry at Susan for allowing such a thing to pass, angry at himself, Caspian finally moved forward.

"Inigo, how could they… what was the point?" it was a frustrated growl.

He shook his head, "M'Lord Susan, they have valid fears."

"I know," fingers gripping her full skirts, "but that doesn't make it right. This suspicion, it has to be put to a stop somewhere. Otherwise it'll breed, like mold on moist bread, and I know it's hard to stand up and be an adult… But. Someone has to do it. If a nice little middle class girl who was only seventeen when she arrived can get up and be an adult for everyone else like I have, why can't they do it too?"

Hands clasped behind his back, Inigo sighed, "A hard road for all. I only wish Father had backed Caspian. How much easier would all this have been?"

"I do not think Sopesbian was capable of thinking beyond his purse," Caspian growled.

Susan whirled, "Caspian!"

Inigo turned much more slowly, his face inscrutable, "Your Highness, it has been some time. I am glad to see your sight has been returned to you now that the nril has left your system."

Hand on hilt, Caspian drew his sword, "So tell me Inigo, how is it that a viper and poisoner like you is in my camp, and in the company of my _wife_?"

"An interesting story Your Highness," bowing, hands still clasped behind his back, "I am sure she shall tell it to you some time. But it is unlikely that I will be there to hear her version of events."

"Inigo," Susan touched his arm, the motion angering Caspian further, how _dare_ she touch another man in such a way? as though they were close friends even! "of course you'll be there!"

"I do not think so m'Lord Susan," his gaze was steady, holding Caspian's, "my death is at hand. I warned you that there was only so long before he would find out about my presence."

Snarling, "How. Long?"

Inigo answered for Susan, "Months. I defected, and have been overseeing the building of war machines. M'Lord Susan had a use for me, and the construction is well underway, so my absence will be felt by no one."

"Oh Inigo, what of Yasmina?" Susan's cried out softly.

Caspian flicked a glance to Susan, "Yasmina?"

"She is no one Your Highness," but Inigo could never hide his emotions from Caspian. There was fear, a sharp undercurrent of the bitter crack behind his words.

"Caspian, Inigo, please, you're friends –"

"I have done my royal cousin a disservice, m'Lord Susan, it is well within his right to avenge himself," Inigo's voice was steady, and Caspian had to marvel at that just a touch, "in any way he sees fit. Not only that, but I did not support him sooner. I could not, not against my father's wishes, no matter the loyalty I bore for Caspian."

His arm was shaking, struggling to contain his anger, "Inigo, why are you here? Why now?"

"You were right cousin, Miraz would do worse than kill Yasmina," grinding his teeth, yet Inigo freely admitted it, "and he also murdered Father. I knew nothing of that when you were in my clutches. Yet as reward I find that I was a Lord, and also at the same time, I had lost my captive. Caspian, I did what I felt I had to. Just as you have done, and will continue to do."

Caspian had to change his grip on his sword, it was too hard to not skewer Inigo then and there, "And so you came crawling on your belly? Expecting _mercy_ and _asylum_ from me? And forgiveness?!"

"Well it would have been nice," shrugging. "But no," sinking to his knees, Inigo merely waited, "I expected nothing from you but a far kinder end than what Miraz would give me. And a possible reprieve for Yasmina."

Drawing back his arm, Caspian readied to disembowel his cousin, but Susan stepped between them, forcing Caspian to pull the thrust at the last moment, "Stop this madness!"

"Susan, stand aside!" snapping at her.

"No!"

"Yes!" snarling, "Is it not enough that you take my throne, my people and my power? Must you stop me from gaining my retribution?! Stand aside woman!"

Drawing herself up, Susan went still, "No. You've spilled enough blood in this sacred place. I'll not let you spoil it with further bloodshed. Not unless you're willing to spit me on your sword as well."

Howling, Caspian threw his sword away, grabbing Susan and shaking her, "You go too far!"

It was Inigo who brought the situation to a halt, having retrieved Caspian's blade and pressed the tip to his neck, "Caspian, cousin, you are a fool. You throw tools away like they are easily replaced. Now, unhand Lord Susan." Inclining his head to Susan briefly, "I apologize for this unpleasantness m'Lord, it was not my wont that this happen at all."

And they all died of dysentary.

The End.

For all those who review regularly, find my email address on my ID page. Or go to LiveJournal, to the susancaspian community to find me. You'll have to friend me on LJ to read the rest of the actual chapter. I won't penalize my regular readers. I understand that coming up with a review for that which contains smutt or dark themes is intimidating, even on the internet, but please, don't insult me or the time I spend on this. If only one person in fivehundred reviewed I wouldn't have an issue. But trust me, for the amount of unique IP's I get who hit all the pages etc, this is rather pathetic. I don't think it's too much to ask for, all things considered. People wonder why fandoms die off, and it's because authors get bored without some sort of regular input. Really now, I shouldn't have to be pointing this out, but apparently it's not obvious. Trust me, I've debated doing this, because I don't want to sound whiny or anything, but with the amount of people who do read this story, one would think that there'd be more input available. There's ip's from all over the world, India, Japan, Australia, the UK, and oh my is that Laos? Why yes it is! And Vietnam, Germany, Canada, the US, and a multitude of others. All I'm trying to do is drive home this fact. That's all.

End of rant, and if you want more of this - feel free to show me that it's actually worth me posting it here. Otherwise, tough.

So here's how it'll work - I'll post, you'll review, then I'll post again. If I have proof that people aren't just reading and then going about their merry way, then I'll continue writing. As for this section, I'll put the rest up when I get some thoughts on this. If my words have irritated you - let me know. Just remember that I spend more time writing this than it takes you two read it. If you think I'm being unfair, then ask if you're being fair to me. This isn't kindergarten where the teacher has to tell us to play nice and say 'thank you'. Frankly? I hate that I'm brushing off the 'bitch' hat and wearing it. Yes I have more reviews for this than most stories, and that's only because I request input, where it's due. And when I don't get it, I'll ignore that for only so long. So if I'm feeling the pain here, so are other authors. If you're reading something that's got chapters, or it's an author you like - review once in awhile! They'll appreciate it, and work harder to write more! Authors don't post their work just for giggles, we want honest opinions or even a random smileyface. Silence only breeds eventual silence on the authors end.

And there I go ranting again.

So, peace out for now. In a few day I'll revisit this and decide if I'm going to continue spending time on keeping up on this. And I do have several sections written, so it's not like I'm simply making a demand without anything to give in return. That is all. Good evening.


	23. The Rest of 22

XXX

Have you ever been in a fandom, and it's going along great - then suddenly it seems like it dies off?  
Or, have you ever read a story, watched a vid, or enjoyed a lovely piece of fanart... and wondered why the creator didn't make more?  
Artists - of word, paper, or digital media.... have you been sucked in by a fandom, you're loving it..... but then you lose the will to continue?  
Okay, here's why:  
No dialogue. No open communication.  
Fandoms are a sort of relationship, and relationships are work. Work you love, whether you spend time reading it, watching it, or looking at it, or making it. What's the biggest killer of relationships? Lack of communication.....  
Now I'm gonna use my old fandom as an example, it's a prime example.

The XMen movie came out in like what? 2000? And for that movie there was the 'shipper pairing for Wolverine and Rogue. Nine years later, and several movies later - it was not only glaringly obvious that Wolverine/Rogue would never end up together, but that the whole pairing was 'foolish' because after the first movie.... there was nothing to support the pairing.  
Do you know what happened?  
Nothing. NOTHING AT ALL!  
Nine years later almost, and guess what? It's still going strong. Yes it's not as big or as active as it was. But it's still active, and it's still got a huge fanbase.  
And now you may be asking yourself why this is: a handful of dedicated shippers, and open lines of communication. Communication breeds and maintains excitement.  
Yes life does get busy, school, work, real life and all those other wonderful things, and they are very important. Very important. But fandom is a place where like minds can meet, new friends can be made, skills can be brushed up, and creativity explored. Fandom is important for some of us for personal growth, because our eyes get opened to knew ideas from other ppl who share a common interest.

Now, how does this all apply to Suspian? It applys to all fandoms of which we partake. Some will be more involved or have more time to be involved, and that's fine, that's good. But if you enjoy something, then you probably want more of what you enjoy, right? So open up those lines of communication. Try reading an author you haven't read before, or watching a vid that you haven't watched, or clicking on a piece of art.... And if you have an idea for anything, why not try and explore it yourself too?  
It may come off on that I was trolling for reviews, but that's not it, not exactly. What it was is the fact that I'm irked, and saddened, and disappointed - because Suspian/Casue fandom is coming to a near standstill. On the susancaspian LJ community there's almost no activity, just a handful every now and then. On the activity is minimal. And it's not cuz there aren't any readers, not when there's tables that show that there's X amount of unique IP hits a day, to give us some idea of where we're getting readers from and how many, how popular something is. Now, granted, I'm not one to talk, I had some RL stuff I had to take care of, and my own enthusiasm had waned some. Not only that but I can't promise to maintain a fixed pace in Suspian/Casue, but that doesn't mean I won't stay involved.

Ask yourself - do you gain enough enjoyment from fandom and your interraction with others here to put for even a small amount of effort? If the answer is yes, then please do. Open up those lines of communication, try your hand at something yourself. Reap what you sow, and sow what you reap. Now I myself am notorious for not reviewing - but that's mainly because I'm devoting myself to writing an expansive storyline, and that doesn't excuse me, but then again - when I do read something, I still try and give some sort of input. My lack of input merely means I haven't gotten to viewing someone's work, not that I'm not interested, or haven't taken the time to give a bit of what I recieved back.

Yes, I'm preaching and I heartily am sorry for that. Remember you don't have to review everytime or everything, it doesn't have to be eloquent and thought out, but just give a touch back for what ya get out of it.

So here's the rest of 22, keep some of what I've said in mind, try finding us on the Yahoo Group, or on LJ. Keep your authors writing, keep your artists doin' their thing, and keep the vid makers doin' theres. On the YG, all are welcome, all fanwork for the Suspian/Casue fandom is welcome. Just obey some basic courtesy rules and we'll get along splendidly. As I can't post links on FF, you're best bet is to go to my ID page and click the homepage button. Spread the love.

XXXX

Releasing Susan, tilting his head back, Caspian sized Inigo up, while gently pushing Susan behind him, "So what are you going to do Inigo?"

"Nothing at all actually," the tip never wavered from Caspian's jugular. "Now that I have your attention, I have something important to do," grip changing suddenly, flipping the sword around, presenting the hilt to Caspian, "Your Highness, I have come to pledge my services, life, and loyalty to the thrones of Telmar-Narnia. If it pleases you, I shall serve in any capacity you choose."

Taking hold of the hilt of his sword, Caspian stared at him, squinting, "How am I to trust you?"

"A Telmarine trusts no one Your Highness," sinking to a knee once more, head bowed, "as you well know. A Narnian trusts many. You are both and neither, so you tell me. How are you to trust someone as Telmarine as me? By holding my son's life in your hands."

"No Inigo, I swore that I'd keep Yasmina safe, no matter what," Susan tried to move from behind Caspian, but his arm stretched out, keeping her in place.

"And if she bears a daughter?"

"I have no other children Caspian," Inigo's shoulders were tight, waiting.

"Caspian, please think about what you're doing," it was a whisper, "think about the future – don't you need supporters in the Council?"

Grumbling, Caspian sheathed his sword, "I will likely have you executed later Inigo. Do not count this as a reprieve. For now – you live, but only on my whim."

"Yes, my Liege," it was relieved.

Sweeping out of the Room, Susan in tow, Caspian glared at anyone who came too near. He definitely had things to _discuss_ with Susan this night.

XXX

"No, stop it, I'm not in the mood," Susan swatted at his hands where they grasped at her waist, pulling her to a recess in the stone.

"You do not have the luxury of not being in the mood," Caspian hissed. "You have done…. You…"

Susan turned to look at him, "Done what? Taken care of the Narnians and the How and the war and the supplies when you couldn't? Because I did what had to be done?"

Caspian pulled her close, "You overstepped your agreed upon bounds. Put yourself at risk." His voice cracked at the last word, "That is _unacceptable._"

"Everything's 'unacceptable' with you, isn't it?" pushing at his shoulders.

"Because I seek to keep you _safe_ ? And _alive_?" shaking his head, Caspian yanked her even closer, crushing her into his chest, he didn't know what else to do other than hang on tightly to Susan, praying to the only thing he held dear – Susan herself – that he could find some way to remove the threat to her life.

She squirmed, trying to get free, "You're overreacting. I know you're mad, but Caspian, listen to reason! Reason is what wins the day, not impulsiveness!"

"Susan," throat tight, Caspian relaxed his grip, shaking his emotions off for a moment longer, they were not in an appropriate setting and were attracting attention in the hall. "Susan go to our room. I will be there shortly."

She gave him a hard look, the sighed, nodding, "Fine. Try not to kill anyone please."

Caspian watched her go, then went to the kitchens, searching out the faun responsible for Susan's meals. It was always stuffy and hot in there, terracotta ovens and stoves having been implemented along with the cook fires, feeding an army was hard work, and rations were always being made, not just the daily food for the How. Relaying a few simple orders, Caspian left, calculating how long it would take for the contraceptive to be out of Susan's system now that it would no longer be put in her meals. Uncomfortable with the decision, but Caspian saw no other route to take, because the only way he could gain even a bit of extra time for Susan, the only way to buy enough time to keep her alive long enough for him to consolidate his power amongst the Lords – was if she were with child or nursing. A mother, particularly if the mother was wedded to the father of her child, was to be kept alive for at least a year after the birth of her child. And that was what Caspian was going to have to do, make sure that Susan lived long enough so that he could implement the measures necessary to keep her safe.

But she certainly wouldn't be thanking him for getting her with child during this war.

He just had no other choice.


	24. Chapter 23 Link

If you don't want to wait a few days to read Chapter 23, go to my YahooGroup. I'm not gonna give up on by any means, but I have decided to do what I can to take matters into my own hands with some stuff. That's all. Happy reading if you decide to go to Stolen Moments!

Title: Lurking in the Shadows - Chapter 23  
Author: Rhion  
Rating: NC-17  
Summary: He wasn't a nice man by any notion of the word. In her eyes he was little more than a robber baron, some goon who overthrew those around him by cunning and might. And he had a terrible temper.  
Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue. Put those freakin' lawyers away....  
Genre: AU, Suspian. Angst, romance, and happy endings.  
AN: This one's a bit smluffy. It's to make up for what'll be happening. Plus I needed to introduce Peredur. He's important. I know it's a bit 'late in the game' to be introducing new characters, but sometimes new ones are necessary and old ones get cycled out as their usefulness to the plot dwindles. That doesn't mean I'll be discarding old ones by any means, but it does mean that sometimes there'll be somewhat 'filler' sections that aren't as plot heavy, because they're there to aid some interpersonal development or show new interpersonal maturity/relationships.

I will be posting 23 on the susancaspian LJ community on Monday, and on on Tuesday. Hopefully by staggering the places of where I post things, it'll draw some more attention to this YahooGroup, and hopefully encourage some more posting here too. As well as elsewhere. My good friend Tannana has agreed to do some art for this group, and that's absolutely splendid. That's all for now folks. So, same bat place, same bat day, there'll be section 24. No wait, I forgot I travel on next Sat, so I'll be posting it early. Forgot, oops. But Nov 20-22 I'll be incommunicado because of that. So, good work ya'll, we're at 20+ members in just a couple days! Whoopeee!  
It can be found at the yahoogroup: groups::DOT::yahoo::DOT::com::FORWARDSLASH::group:: FORWARDSLASH::suspian::UNDERSCORE::casue

Just remove the colons and replace the capitals with the designated symbols.


	25. Chapter 23, in it's entirety

Trying not to worry, Susan wondered at how quiet Caspian was the last few days. He had accepted the title of Prince Consort and War Leader with aplomb, not complaining at all, which scared Susan. She thought he'd at least have raised a bigger stink than he had. Instead he merely kissed her, then watched stoically as a circlet was settled over her hair while he stood by her side. Susan had almost leapt from the chair when the light crown was pushed down on her wavy hair, wanting to flee in terror of the responsibility laid at her feet. But she couldn't do that, even if that was her dearest wish, because Susan just knew she wasn't cut out for any of this.

And still, Caspian was withdrawn, right now he was simply staring at her.

Almost… forlorn.

"Caspian?" but he looked away when she tried to catch hold of his gaze, "Talk to me? Please?"

"What would you like to talk about my Queen?" it was soft, but not hesitant, simply… sad.

Letting a hint of exasperation bleed into her tone, "Oh stop it with the 'Queen' stuff. I get enough of that shit from everyone else. Nothing's any different you know, I'm still me."

Moving from her chair, over to Caspian and sitting in his lap, all the better to cuddle into his arms, Susan lay her head on his shoulder, fingers twirling in the hair at the nape of his neck. His heartbeat was slow and steady, it's gentle thrum soothing. Nothing had changed at all, but everything had changed, just the same. More people would come for the spring campaign. Those who had been at the How and the workers camp – they continued to treat Susan and Caspian the same. Equally powerful, equally worthy. But Susan was scared that maybe because of all the stupid politics, that Caspian was questioning his worth. And he was so beyond worthy, a far cry from her opinion of him of yore.

"If you wish it," chin resting on her forehead, moving with his words, "then so shall it be."

"Hm, does that mean you can magic up a box of Turkish Delight?" trying to tease a smile from him.

A mere glance, fingers moving to brush her bottom lip, "I do not know what it is, but if it were in my power to do so, then yes."

Cupping his cheek, "Then what about a smile, I wish to see a smile from you Caspian. My sweet, dashing, perfect prince, could you magic one of those up for me?"

"I do not dash," lips moving only enough to form the words.

Becoming impatient, Susan straddled his thighs, hands going to his temples so her fingers could tangle in his floppy curls, "Caspian, talk to me, tell me what's wrong. Please? I need you and I miss you."

Caspian gave himself a gentle shake, and forced a smile, "I am here my Queen, I have gone nowhere. Do not miss me, because I am right here," palms brushing over her waist, "right here with you."

Staring at him long and hard, Susan felt her bottom lip start to tremble. And her eyes stung. Badly. Bursting into tears, Susan pressed her face into his chest.

Sobbing, "I don't want to be Queen!"

"Susan?"

She'd never uttered those words, not since the first time Caspian had told her that's what she was destined to become. But that was at his side, not by herself! Susan didn't want that at all, she just wanted to be Susan Pevensie, and Caspian's wife. And helpful, she wanted to be that too, but that's all. There was no way she could carry this on her own, why would anyone want to?

"I just-ju-just-t," stuttering, "wanted to help out. I'm not made for this," clinging tightly to him, "and you won't talk to me, and you just look at me all sad and work and work, and I work, and, and, and, and, and I just want to scream!"

"I," he appeared to be at a loss, hesitantly his arms encircled her, "Susan. I have gone nowhere, I am right here."

She just shook her head, her tears making his collar wet, "I just want to go away with you or something, I can't handle this, it's too much pressure. I'm just Susan Pevensie, or whatever my last name is now that we're married. Can we just… go away Caspian? You, me and a tent? No work, no worries, no one calling us by titles…"

"Is that what you want?" sighing as he gave her a little squeeze, Susan burrowed deeper into his arms.

He had to be uncomfortable in the chair with her sprawled like that on him, but Susan needed Caspian to fix this, or at least to make her feel like it was going to work out in the end.  
Sniffling, letting out a watery chuckle, "Yes. But we can't, can we?"

Caspian pressed his nose to her temple, and Susan could feel his lashes fluttering over her forehead as he blinked in thought, "Something could be arranged I am sure."

"But," pulling back to look at him, seeing his small frown as he tried to work it out in his head, "Caspian, what about all the other things that need to be done? There's so much to do.."

"It is winter Susan," his thumb was gentle, the blunt end of his trimmed nail catching on her lip as he traced it, "there is little that cannot be set aside for a brief time, or handled by Glenstorm, Moringdew or even…" he made an annoyed sound, "even Inigo, in our absence. Even they take a day off every eighth day. You do not. You sleep little enough, far less than me, I hear you in the night Susan, with your scratching quill the shuffling papers. You put me to shame with how much you are constantly doing. It is little wonder you need a rest. I have had more rest than I care for, but you?"

Susan dug her fingers into his shoulders, "You were ill."

"Yes, I was, and you have carried too much on your small shoulders Susan," hands went under her bunched skirts, stroking her outer thighs, then slid to cup her bottom, pulling her even closer, "you are a woman. But you are also very young, and have had to grow up too fast. You have done it without complaint Susan. No one would begrudge you a few days of rest. You are what? Seventeen? Even when I was your age I had a day of rest, every sixth day."

With a small start, Susan realized, "I'm eighteen now."

"Oh. I did not know…"

"I forgot all about it," leaning in nuzzling at his neck as she closed her eyes inhaling the scent of leather, oil and Caspian. "So do you think we could disappear for a few days, and make some snow angels?"

"I suppose," he still sounded listless, but there was more life to him than there had been since her speedy coronation. "I will speak with Glenstorm. You…" he gave her a little push, kissing her chin as he stood, "grab a pack and put some essentials in it for us."

"Okay…" but Susan felt guilty. She had people and tasks to attend to. And so did Caspian.  
Figuring she'd just go over a few more reports Susan went back to her desk, telling herself that she'd finish five and then get to packing. Caspian should be gone long enough for her to have plenty of time to do that. Settling in, Susan set to work.

Two hours later, her shoulders ached from being hunched over her desk, and a tension headache was descending. The door opened and closed, and Rosetta came in, Caspian in tow.

"Oh I wish someone had thought of that beforehand Caspian," Rosetta was saying, "and a bit of warning would have been nice, the girls and I could have gotten a few things together for Su to wear outdoors. But –"

"Susan? What are you doing?" concerned.

Glancing up, rubbing at the spot between her eyebrows, "Oh I just wanted to finish this up…"

Caspian came over, grabbing her wrist, forcing her to relinquish her quill, "Stop this at once. Go sit," hoisting her up, "on the bed. No more working. Rosetta?"

"Yes?"

"Get someone to fetch Susan some tea, and you and I shall pack the necessaries."

Susan frowned, "Now look here, I was almost done with that missive. I can take care of myself and don't need –"

"You most certainly cannot it seems," going to her clotheschest, rummaging through its contents, squatting, pulling out shifts and a couple petticoats, as well as her 'boy' gear. "Inigo has agreed to work with Moringdew on keeping track of things while we are gone."

Shocked, "What?"

"Inigo is nothing if not a talented bureaucrat, it was what he was trained for." Grunting, "I do not trust him, but he has uses. In the interim, he can be allowed to go over the lists and minutia while Morningdew supervises and handles the scouts. Glenstorm will take care of any troop movements, just as he has been doing. Glryrril will oversee the spies, and you and I shall go up to the foothills. A wing of gryphons will be our guards, and Luis is searching for a Horse that would be willing to bear me for the time being. Cease your worrying. Leave it be for a time."

Rosetta entered, and went to Susan's desk, gathering up the piles of paperwork, "Now Inigo, you know what I'll do if you muck this up?"

He was fast on her heels, a tray with bread and tea in his hands, "Yes, you have warned me that my ears will be twisted until they pop off. Repeatedly."

"Good, and if that's not enough of a deterrent I'll sic Jiroon on you," huffing.

Susan just stared, while the dwarf and men moved around her, numbly accepting the tray from Inigo. Sipping her spicy tea, Susan scooted around on the covers, tucking her slippered feet under one of the fur blankets. Inigo went and started sorting through the piles of scattered papers on Susan's desk, shooing Rosetta away with a wave of his hand. Fighting the urge to speak up, and tell Inigo that no she didn't want those papers mixing with the other ones, and that she had a particular system to the mad mess on her desk, Susan just closed her eyes.

Being a simple mistress and minor advisor had been hard work. Becoming a princess was harder. And now, as a Queen, the work hadn't increased per se, but the pressure certainly had, and four days into it Susan just couldn't handle it anymore. Doing her best to relax, even if for a few minutes, Susan dozed off, her cup of tea half finished and held in her lax grip, the valerian that Inigo had put in it, allowing Susan to actually doze off.

XXX

A tent wasn't the best of accommodations Susan decided, but side by side with Myriln they dug in the snow, making a deep hollow.

"I do not know why the two of you are insisting on doing this," Caspian joined them, "the tent is already set up."

Myriln swiveled his ears, clicking his beak, "The wings know that in winter, sometimes we get blown off course Your Highness. And snow is a good insulation. Your tent will be drafty and your Royal Persons could catch a chill."

Snow flew, Susan moving to dig like a dog, her braid flopping over her shoulder, breathing hard, "Myriln could you stop with the formality? It's that sort of stuff that drives me, ugh," throwing snow in her cupped palms over her shoulder, "crazy!"

"Apologies, Your Majesty, but it's inappropriate for me to be overly familiar," he bobbed his head on his neck, rolling his 'r's long and hard.

Caspian came to her rescue, even as he helped deepen the hollow, "Then take it as an order from Susan that you merely act as you would to your fellows."

Myriln trilled, puffing his neck ruff in agitation, then dipped his head, "As you command."

Luis whickered, staying off to the side, "It is all well and good that you make dens for yourselves, but what is a poor Horse to do?"

"Oh please Luis," giggling, "you've got enough blankets to cover a mountain!"

The hole had been widened enough and Susan went to the small sleigh that Luis was hitched to, dragging out a rolled up rug, and over to the hollow. Myriln went about mounding snow and packing it tight and making tall humps around the edge of the dip, and Caspian moved to help Susan with her burden.

"I believe I see what you are planning," unfurling one of the thick rugs over the half meter deep hole.

"What, building a snow fort?" deciding that Caspian made a lovely target, Susan stooped, grabbing up a handful of snow and making it into a ball.

He grunted, mouth opening to speak as he turned, "Pardon-"

Having taken quick aim Susan let fly, nailing him in the face, "Susan: One. Caspian: Zero!"

Sputtering, brushing the snow off, "What?"

"I said 'Susan: One, Caspian: Zero'. You know," squatting, making another ball, "the current score."

"What do –" he was cut off abruptly, another snowball breaking apart, this time dead center on his face and not just the side of his head.

"Susan: Two! Caspian – you move too slow!" running away, her fresh handful of snow being molded as she went into a stumbling jog. Looking over her shoulder she saw Caspian just standing there mouth agape, bowled over by her actions.

Tucking stray curls that had come loose from her braid, Susan called, "Come on Caspian! Play with me!"

"Play? Is this… what you call playing?" shaking his head, stray snowflakes falling from his hair in a light dust, "You are mad! Only children play such foolish games!"

Pouting, Susan fumbled in the deep snow, "It's my vacation, right?"

"Well – yes," he frowned.

"Then I want to play!" getting close enough to lob her projectile at him, "So play dammit!"

This time Caspian ducked, falling flat to the ground, "As you command my Queen."

"Hey!" grabbing more snow, "No 'Queen'ing me!"

"As you say then," punctuated with his own snowball.

It flew wide, but the snowball fight had begun in earnest.

XXX

Caspian felt strange in the odd little burrow that had been made from snow, their tent, and deadfall. But, he did have to admit it was quite cozy. Susan was bundled up in a blanket, sighing in deep contentment, and of all things, knitting. Deeming that the wrapped meat buried in the coals had been left long enough to be done, and he rolled to his knees, heading for the tent flap.

"Caspian?"

Pausing, fingers grasping the thick canvas, "Yes?"

"I love you," her needles clacking softly.

Suffused with a sudden warmth, Caspian felt his lips curl in response, "Thank you."

"What for?" she gave him a curious look, ever open and caring, Susan was more beautiful in that moment, dressed as a boy beneath the thick blanket, her hair in disarray than she'd ever been.

Ducking his head, suddenly shy, Caspian wanted to flee from the softness in Susan's eyes.

"Caspian?" the little square she'd made so far from the wool she'd been weaving together aside, Susan inched forward, "Caspian, what did I do to merit your thanks?"

Feeling foolish, Caspian truthfully wasn't entirely why he'd said thank you to Susan. Looking back on it, it had sounded silly, and what sort of response was it to say 'thank you' when someone tells you that you are loved? It had sounded better in his head rather than actually spoken aloud.

Cool gloveless fingers touched his cheek, "Honey, talk to me please."

Clearing his throat, "I just wished to thank you. I do not know why."

"Oh, well then, you're welcome," full lips pressed to his, and he wondered if there was anything better in his world than the sensation of Susan's nose mooshed into his cheek as they kissed languorously. Too soon she pulled away, "And thank you, too."

Throat tight, Caspian kept his eyes closed, "What for? I did nothing…"

"For letting me tell you that I love you," two more kisses, one to each eyelid, the sweetness of the action nigh painful, "and for letting me love you."

Shivering, Caspian's eyes fluttered open, "I… I... I should check on supper."

Susan gave him a soft push, and yet another kiss, "You do that then."

Fleeing – in a somewhat dignified manner – Caspian exited their tent and sat before the fire, poking it with a stick. Stirring the coals, Caspian checked the bundles buried there, testing the meat with the stick and deemed them sufficiently cooked. Rolling them out, focusing on that, and keeping one eye closed so as to not get fire-blinded, Caspian didn't hear Peredur approach.

The Horse was mammoth, standing at a good seventeen hands, but moved on quiet hooves, until he stood outlined by the fire, waiting to be acknowledged.

Eyeing him, "Good Horse, is there something I can do for you? Perhaps another blanket?" jerking his chin at the large horse blanket that was lined with curly wool covering his back and flanks.

"I wish to understand something," it was soft, the scar on his cheek standing in stark white-pink relief on his black jaw.

Thinking, Caspian nodded, "And what would that be Sir Peredur?"

"Why is it that you, a Telmarine, commands respect," a snort, steam shooting out in a jet from his large nostrils, "when it is you and your ilk who have subjugated us. I don't understand it at all."

Shifting, Caspian adjusted his cloak, and sat, legs crossed, "I do not know."

"Oh? Do you not believe that it is your right, that you are better than everyone else around you? Humans are conceited and always believe that they are meant to rule all those around them," pawing at the snow.

"I believe I am suited to ruling, yes," trying to find words that the Horse wouldn't take as pretentiousness or vanity, "as I was trained for it. But that is not all of it, nor is it what makes others follow me. From the cradle I was taught that I was born to take care of my people, and to protect them from the privations brought on by the Council. That," uncomfortable, Caspian stopped, then forged ahead, "that the people were my possessions, and my responsibility. I am unsure if this teaching, this belief I have is why others follow me."

Peredur moved slowly around the fire, head snaking side to side, clacking his teeth, "So you're better than everyone else."

"Are you better than everyone else?" turning the question back to the Horse.

He whipped his head to the side, teeth grasping the blanket on his back, and Peredur ripped it off, tossing it to the side, "Look here Prince of Filth, King of Fools, Lord of Arrogance. Look and see what you and your kind have done." Caspian had seen the scars on Peredur's glossy black coat before, but he hadn't thought about it, he hadn't wanted to, "I was in the clutches of your kind, and I survived. Because I am better. I bear these scars as proof of it."

Flinching, Caspian forced himself to look. To really look. Rising from his seat by the fire, Caspian tugged his gloves off, approaching Peredur as calmly as he could. Peredur was trembling in suppressed rage and remembered agony, but stood still waiting.

"Brands, they took brands to you," his voice cold as stone, hand hovering over the bunched shoulder. If it was Peredur's desire, the Horse could easily kill Caspian in this position, and Caspian half expected him to attack. It would be an easy thing for a Horse of Peredur's size and speed to trample him, or having seen how large the Stallion's teeth were, even tear out Caspian's throat. Touching the slashes in Peredur's hide, "They cut you with knives." He ran his hands down the sleek back, thinking of his own and what it must look like, "Whipped you. It is no comfort, but none of the cavalry I trained would do that. Not even to kill you."

Teeth snapped a hairsbreadth from Caspian's ear, "I see you are not just arrogant, but a liar as well."

Irritated, "If you think so little of me Horse, then tell me – why have you deigned to carry me?"

Peredur butted him with his heavy head, sending Caspian sprawling, "All the better to kill you when the Queen is crowned a monarch over you and your breed."

"You could kill me now," getting up, brushing snow from his shoulders, wondering where Mryiln was, "as you have a prime opportunity."

"I did not win free of your kind by being impatient, Lying Consort," it was a snarl, potent and quiet, dripping hate.

Caspian nodded, "Yes, I suppose revenge is a dish best served cold."

Rearing back, hooves clawing at the sky, before thudding back down, "It is not vengeance! It is justice! It is retribution."

"Then I hope you choose your timing with great care," Caspian bowed his head to Peredur.

Eyes rolling so the white showed, "And why would you wish that, Ye Who Rose From Shit?"

"Because if you do not, it will only open up a chance for retaliation. And more war. And more of your fellows suffering as you have," with that Caspian went to the fire, grabbing he and Susan's meal, and left. Angry at his own kind and himself, shamed but not willing to admit to the fact that Peredur had good reason to hate humans. But deep inside, Caspian knew, and felt guilt.

Slipping under the flap of their tent, Caspian clamped down on his roiling emotions. Hard. The last week or so had been insane, and Susan was in no state to handle his anger. Struggling to regain the soft warmth he'd felt earlier Caspian sat next to Susan, unwrapping their meal of meat and potatoes and laying it on the floor.

"I heard voices, were you talking to Luis?"

Snapping, "What makes you think it was Luis?"

Susan gave him a funny look, "Well I heard snorting and a whicker. You know, horsey sounds. Trills and it would've been a gryphon. So, I take it you weren't talking to Luis?"

"No," wishing to leave it at that, Caspian speared his potato with his belt knife.

"You know," Susan mused aloud, "Peredur reminds me of someone."

Focusing on eating the tuber, Caspian didn't exactly ignore his wife, but he didn't want to hear whatever she thought at the moment. He wasn't in the mood. Especially not in the mood to hear her come up with some random reason that he shouldn't listen to his impulses and desires, and rather to logic. Her ever touted logic and reason, it had been ruling him more and more and while he could understand it's benefit, at times it was no little amount of trying to incorporate so much damnable patience into his thought patterns.

"I mean Peredur, he's very proud," she went on, "and very strong. Not only that he is very honourable."

He merely grunted, doing his best to not listen, let alone contribute. Susan was the one who preferred words anyway. Cutting off a chunk of meat, Caspian gnawed at it, holding it with his fingers, ignoring how it made his hands greasy. Camp fare didn't really allow for any sort of nicety.

Susan nabbed the half eaten chunk from his grip, nibbling at it, "He's had a very hard life, and is very set in his ways. But he's a good Horse, but I have to wonder why he'd come forward as the one to bear you when no other would?"

"Probably the better to kill me," joking darkly.

Rather than sound put out, Susan actually giggled, "Somehow I think he's actually a big softie inside if given a chance."

"Doubtful," taking out a waterskin, Caspian drank deeply.

"You know what?" he hoped her question was rhetorical, because he refrained from answering, "I think some people just need to be shown that there's more options and ways to be than they thought. I mean," she shifted around, wiping her fingers on her leather leggings, "anyone can have their eyes opened if they let it happen."

Gritting his teeth, Caspian tried to formulate a response, "And people do not change. The way people are is the way they are. And that is all they ever will be or can be."

"Oh?" Before Caspian could say anything, "You've changed. You've become more you I think, but you have changed too. I mean, you think before you answer more often. Because you know you can, and because you know you'll get a better response if you do. Caspian," she took his hand in hers, rubbing the spaces between his knuckles, "you know, for a fact I might add, that with the Narnians and most people in general, that the best results happen when you pause and don't just follow your impulses. You've been doing it for months, if not a longer time than that. I expect better of you than you simply being reckless. And you deliver. Not just to me, but to everyone, and you've done it because you know it's the right thing to do."

"You talk too much," pulling his hand from her grasp, "and expect too much from those incapable of change. People are inherently bad, Susan, that is the way of it. Just because you are different does not change this basic fact." Caspian hadn't wanted to be dragged into this conversation, but it seemed that Susan had some strange ability to force him to talk even when he most sincerely didn't wish to, "People are selfish, cruel, and evil. Even Narnians are, we are all little more than a joke, Susan. Those like you are devoured by life more often than not, thrown aside and destroyed or twisted into the same shape as everyone else. That is unless someone worse comes along and wishes that there was more to life than there really is, and decides to protect that kernel of naivety."

Susan's full lips turned downwards into a deep frown fit to rival one of his blackest glares, and he was reminded of when Susan used to fix him with a look bordering on hate. This wasn't quite that, but it was something almost worse. Actually, who was he kidding? It was worse.

Tone disappointed, "So you think I'm stupid? Silly for believing that there's more to life than… than simple selfishness? Brutality? Then why haven't I been warped and twisted? Why haven't I been crushed?"

Shaking his head, "Because I protect you."

"Hardly," growling, Susan flopped back, shoving aside their food, presenting him with her back, "You didn't protect me from killing people. You didn't protect me from having to be responsible for those around me and taking risk. What have you protected me from? Nothing."

Livid, Caspian's jaws dropped, roaring, "What have I not protected you from?"

"You got captured because you didn't think," snapping, "you only thought of your lust for action, not of the danger you'd put yourself in. Or anyone else, because you were the only Telmarine in the Narnian army Caspian! The Telmarines would always know who to attack! And then the Narnians would try and defend you, and get more of them killed in the process! You were blinded because you didn't think! And then I had to kill, Caspian! How were you protecting me then, huh? Where were you when I sowed a field of poppies on the snow? How were you keeping me safe? How in the name of Aslan were you protecting my naiveté?" She rolled over, pinning him with her blue eyes, "What about protecting my innocence when you raped me? What of that? Oh great and mighty, Caspian, when on when have you been making sure that I don't get harmed by life? I'm not seeing more than a half-assed attempt, only enough to make you feel like you're doing something."

He'd had enough, and Caspian, grabbed one of the heavy blankets, and pausing before leaving the tent, "And here I am proved correct – even you are selfish."

XXX

Caspian awoke chilled, the coals from the fire long cold, but he'd suffered worse last winter when riding patrol. Trying to figure out what had awoken him, Caspian stayed still, thinking. He didn't like thinking, he'd been doing too much of it, but couldn't stop himself. At every turn Caspian was being thwarted by Susan, shoved into corner after corner, making every sacrifice he could for her and her happiness. But no one saw that, now did they?

Sitting up, Caspian looked around, not spying Luis anywhere. Peredur was sleeping, his head hanging down, lips drooped, ears relaxed, snoring lightly. His head perked up after a few minutes, looking around, and stretched. Caspian had to admit that the way Peredur acted – scanning his surroundings, testing the air and stretching, ready for possible danger – was very similar to how he himself was upon waking. Both Peredur and he were fighters, a fact openly displayed from their copious scars. Feeling a certain kinship with the Horse, both of them had been ill used by Telmarines in their own ways, Caspian watched as Peredur paced around in a circle, as though he were checking perimeter.

Tossing his head so his bangs got his hair settled, checking his weapons and slinging his swordbelt around his waist, "Friend Horse, how went your evening?"

"I'm not your friend," it was the closest thing to a growl the Horse could manage with his equine vocal cords.

Caspian snorted, "Fine then enemy Horse, how went your evening?"

"It was well until you butted in," Peredur plowed through the snow, stepping carefully, "but now that you are here I suppose you could feed me."

"That I could," nodding, Caspian went to the sleigh, and scooped oats into a feeding pan. Turning, not showing how startled he was by how close Peredur had gotten so quietly, "I believe there may be a carrot or two in the supplies if you wish one."

"And what would it cost me?" Peredur eyed him with suspicion.

Caspian actually chuckled, "Actually, nothing. Destrier was fond of carrots, but he also liked figs. Most horses enjoy such things, and benefit from the nutrients in them. Why would it be different for Horses?" Setting the pan down, he dug in their food supplies, nabbing a carrot and snapped it into several chunks and placing them in the pan, "Variety in diet is good for all beings, and for you to be in good health, I must make sure you eat well."

"Mph," nosing a carrot chunk, crunching it up, "I do not respond well to bribes. I will still kill you. After this conflict."

Hopping on the seat of the sleigh after brushing off snow, "Why not just get it over with then? Why wait so long at all? I am right here," spreading his hands, "and to be sure you have a great advantage."

Peredur munched, keeping one eye on him, "Because, Prince of Shit, even Lying Consorts have their uses."

"Ah, then I suppose that means we are even then, no?" pulling his dagger out, testing its edge.

Tail swishing, "And what do you mean by that Lord of Fools?"

"We shall see who kills who when the time comes, and until then we will keep each other alive, yes?" deciding that the knife was well enough, Caspian sniffed the chill air, detecting the cool crispness that heralded more snowfall for later.

Peredur blew air from his lips, the thick foamy saliva from eating flying away in flecks, some of it landing on Caspian's boot, "Agreed, but I do not think much of your word Telmarine, but I'll give you mine as a Horse that I'll bear you and protect you until you are no longer useful."

"As you say then," Caspian tugged at his glove pulling it off, "In the meantime, would you care for some liniment for your joints in this cold?"

XXX

Luis' harness clinked and the snow crunched as he gingerly tested his footing before committing his weight to it, "Your argument was quite loud."

"Sorry," curt, Susan adjusted her seat, being careful to choose a moment when she wouldn't possibly make Luis' footing more difficult. "He's so difficult."

"And the same can't be said for you?" it was somewhere between curious and amused.

"Well he's just not sensible sometimes," drawing her hood up, wishing they had earmuffs in Narnia. "I mean really who does he think he is? Telling me that he's protected me, made sure I was kept safe so I'd still be innocent. Bullshit," grumbling.

"He could have done more that's true, you're right, he could have used his head more," his pace tossed his silvery forelock around, "but you're both right. You like to think you're very sensible Susan," she almost interrupted but Luis forged ahead, "and you can be, but you're young. And that means sometimes even you're not right, no matter how sensible you are."

Susan crossed her arms, coming close to pouting, "Oh fine, how'd you get to be so wise Luis? I mean Horses live how long? Fifteen years?"

"Eighty, and I'm thirty-two I'll have you know," snorting, "and even regular horses can get to be as long in the tooth as myself thank you."

Surprised, Susan leaned forward trying to catch Luis' eye, "You're thirty-two? Really?"

"Well yes, I do believe I just said I was, now didn't I?" snorting, jingling the bells on his hackamore. "Now as I was saying, you're young. So is Caspian. Really you're nothing more than children," weaving between tree trunks, taking a circuitous route back to the camp, "surrounded by adults who expect both of you to be adults all the time. So his assessment was right, yours was right, what seems to be the problem? Why not just kiss and make up?"

Unable to help her giggle, "Luis!"

"What?" mildly, "Everyone knows that's what you two do. The gryphons and Birds have had quite an eyeful on a few occasions. And anyone passing by your hall gets an earful I'm told… And I myself have gotten a noseful I may add. Many times."

Blushing furiously, Susan covered her face, "Luis!"

"Yes, that is my name, and if you keep using it I fear it may wear out…" prancing in place.

"We're not that bad," mortified, "are we?"

"You're in love, and young, why should you not enjoy each other?" his tail flicked up, hard, the heavy white whacking her knee in affection. "Though it has always puzzled me why so many are always in season. Doesn't it make everyone crazy all the time?"

Biting her lip, Susan kept rubbing her cheeks hoping to wipe away the seemingly permanent blush, "Luis…. You're terrible!"

"I'm terrible? Well now…." huffing mockingly.

They continued on, settling into companionable silence. Halfway back, "Luis, why did you pick Peredur for Caspian?"

"Pick him? Oh Su, trust me I wouldn't have picked him if I had a choice at all the matter." Worry crept into his voice, "But no other Horse was willing to bear him."

She didn't understand that at all, "But… out of all the Narnians, Caspian would love the Horses best. Don't they see that?"

"They can't trust him Su, there's too much bad blood for it to be washed away quickly," it was a sigh.

Scratching Luis' mane, "So why did Peredur say he'd be Caspian's Steed?"

Luis hesitated, "Because he wishes to kill him."

Susan hauled on Luis' reins, shocked, "I thought he was joking…"

Grunting in discomfort, "Not so hard please. I do not think Peredur will follow through on it. If Caspian can win Peredur over, he'll have a lifelong ally. And I think Caspian can. Otherwise I would have told you that I'd have to bear Caspian myself for the interim, and whatever Horse chose to carry you would eventually see Caspian's merit." Moving forward once more, "But you could always order a Horse to be his Steed, you do have that power and right as Queen. You had it even as Princess. You've got power now, so you should use it sometimes. Don't simply let things go by when you do have the ability to fix things."

"Then I'll order Peredur to not harm Caspian," stating it firmly, touching her heels to Luis' flanks, urging him to get back to the camp sooner.

Picking up the pace, "I do not think it is quite that simple Su…"

XXX

He'd rolled up his sleeves, discarding his vambraces, and was working on Peredur's joints steadily, hands covered in wolf grease. It was a morning occurrence, three days into Susan's 'vacation', and Caspian and Peredur were at an impasse, neither one wishing to speak, but feeling as though they should. At least Caspian thought Peredur wanted to say something, but it'd probably be to the effect of 'You are Telmarine and I hate you'. What Caspian wanted to say was what he always did around horseflesh – whatever was on his mind. Destrier had always listened to whatever outpouring that was in Caspian's head, no matter what it was. Peredur wouldn't welcome such a thing, and that was a drawback to Horses in general… they talked back, asked questions, and demanded reasons for things. Like people did. Of course the only person Caspian tended to answer was Susan, it was pretty much impossible not to.

Because they were people, not just simple companions. (As though anything in Caspian's life were simple.) Sighing, Caspian lifted Peredur's leg, checking his hoof, carefully pressing checking for tenderness or swelling. Susan clambered out of their tent, rubbing at her eyes, and decided to start running around. He only took note of this because Caspian felt Peredur's muscles bunch as he shifted to watch.

"She frolics like a foal," the observation surprised Caspian.

"Yes, she does," nodding, Caspian moved to Peredur's other side, checking that hoof.

There was a happy squeal, Susan having jumped into the snow, rolling with Mryiln who was only too happy to play with Susan as though she were a child, "It is nice to hear laughter."

Rubbing his hands with snow, working some of the salve from his palms, Caspian leaned back, looking off to the side, "You should have seen her when she first," he was about to say 'when she was first allowed outside', but decided to change the wording, "caught glimpse of Narnia truly. She sang and danced, holding Rosetta's hands."

"Interesting," and the conversation stopped there.

There was a giggle, and Susan stumbled over to them, "Caspian, I want to play, you're too serious you know. Vacation time – it's a time to be merry, and play. So," Caspian was yanked to his feet, Susan dragging her with him, "we'll make snow angels."

"At least it is not a snowball fight," growling, but he had no idea what a snow 'angel' was.

Susan gave him a shove, "Down you go!"

He didn't budge, "Pardon?"

"Down, you're supposed to lay in the snow!"

Raising a brow, "The snow is cold, and I am already chilled."

"Fine, I'm going to make snow angels without you then, and have fun," she flopped backwards, scissoring her arms and legs, "You can have fun with Peredur. I'm sure he'd just love to glower at things with you!"

"I do not…" grumbling, glowering down at her. Growling, Caspian went back to Peredur. At least he wouldn't ask Caspian to do so many strange things.

XXX

Moaning, Susan curled up tighter, whimpering. Cramps were tearing through her, and she couldn't take it anymore, she'd stayed as quiet as she could, not wanting to wake Caspian, but... She couldn't contain it anymore. Pain was blazing and this was the worst period she'd had since she'd come here, in fact her cycle had gotten to a point where it didn't do more than give her a few aches and pains. But this was a symphony of agony poking her insides and her lower back, and she just wanted it to stop.

Her constant shifting to find a less painful position must have woken him up, "Susan?"

"What?" gritting her teeth, hands clutching her stomach.

"What is wrong?" becoming alarmed and more alert, Caspian's warm hand went to her forehead, "You are cool as clay, and I do not like your colour…"

"It's nothing," whispering, then strangling on a short cry. Panting, "It'll pass."

Caspian moved under their thick blankets, gathering her close as he sat up, "What is it? I have never seen you like this…"

"Period," grunting, wincing as another wave crested. Maybe this one was actually worse than the ones she used to have in England.

"Period? Susan you are making no sense, I am going to send a gryphon for help – "

Grabbing his hand, Susan squeezed it. Hard. "No, it's just my… my moon cycle. Um… bleeding? Monthly bleeding. You -" sucking in a deep breath, "oww! Fuck that hurt! - know what that is right?"

"Of course, but – it should not be this bad, correct? They never were in the past…" distantly Susan was aware of Caspian's bare skin warming her back under their covers, of fingers moving through her hair, in some attempt at easing her discomfort.

After a few minutes Susan got a reprieve, "Ugh, oh god I feel gross. I need... I need," thighs pressing together.

"Do not worry over it," Caspian's lips were near her ear, "rest for now. I will take care of it."

Grateful, Susan lay there limply, worn out – who knew agony was so much work? – watching as Caspian crawled around the inside of their tent, nude as the day he was born. Caspian slipped outside for a few minutes then returned, goose bumps raised on his dark skin, and he was holding something wrapped up in a shirt. It was warm and hard, most likely one of the rocks that framed the small fire the that was outside, and Caspian lifted back the blanket, laying it on her abdomen. The heat instantly worked some sort of magic, going through her screaming muscles and loosening the knot of tension there.

Sighing thankfully, "Oh that's perfect, thank you."

"It is no trouble," he had a tiny frown on his face, then used another shirt when he climbed under the blankets with her to wipe up her sticky thighs. "I have always found that a good climax helped with physical pain."

Eyes that had been closed popped open in shock, "You've got to be joking!"

Snorting, "I assure you I am not."

And here she had thought Caspian was being courteous and thoughtful when in fact all he wanted was to butter her up!

"I don't see how that's a good idea," grumbling, hugging the warm stone to her, "I'm in pain and I feel disgusting! It's not like it's only a little bit of…"

All she got was a look, "Blood? I do not find that to be a deterrent."

Growling, "Try it and you won't like the consequences."

His shrug was philosophical, "You know how hard it is to deny me in the long run," but he settled down, cradling her.

She was drowsing a few minutes later, until she felt velvety lips on the back of her neck, the stroking light and ticklish. Keeping her eyes closed, Susan focused on how soft Caspian's mouth was, and how nice it felt to have him touching her in such a gentle way. The soft touches he gave her were increasing in frequency, and had appeared while he was blind, and Susan had to say she definitely liked it. Stubble scraped over her skin, and along with Caspian's lips she felt the tip of his nose as he nuzzled the hair at the nape of her neck, before sucking firmly there. For Susan it was a struggle to not moan at that, he knew that was one of her spots!

"Mm, that's nice, but you're still not getting anywhere," humming at him, studiously trying to ignore Caspian.

[REDACTED]

Weak suddenly, Susan flopped forward, panting into Caspian's neck, the pain from her headache and cramps gone.

Yawning, "You're so bad."

He grunted, "Is your headache gone at least?"

"Mph, yes."

"Then I have imparted all the wisdom of the ages necessary…."


	26. Chapter 24

ZOMFG - I'm _so_ sorry I didn't get this up sooner. I'm travelling currently and my internwebs connections are well... crappy. I also haven't had much time to write the next chapter, so I'll get as much of it as I can done by Saturday (oh wait that won't affect FanFicNet much at all, oops) but nonetheless, I'll have chapter 25 up here on time next week. Scout's honour...

XXX

Chapter 24

XXX

"Ah, here it is," Inigo pulled out several papers, "I have taken the liberty of putting everything in sections. Supplies, movements, injuries, deaths, requests and the like in their own places."

Susan glanced over the list, Inigo's graceful handwriting looping down the page in neat rows, "You're an organizational genius Inigo."

"Yes the wonders of bureaucratic training," laughing.

Their chairs were scooted close together, sitting in the sub-command room where a long desk had been placed, the workspace converted from a small room next to the command center of the How. In the two weeks Susan had been gone it had become an office, trays filled with stacks of paper all neat and easily accessed, and in the corner a small clay stove had been put there for warmth, a comfortable mound of straw and blankets there for Yasmina to knit or sew to her heart's content. The doorway was large enough to allow Glenstorm or Morningdew in, or any of the other large Narnians with ease, and not only that but it was cozy. Not cozy like she and Caspian's room, but cozy in the way a good office should be: promoting good work practices and communication with all the multitude of those bringing information. Now no Narnian had to fear interrupting a private moment when they had something to report, or being privy to battle plans like in the command room. All of it was so wonderful to Susan, _this_ was something she could work with! Really work with! And there was even enough room at the table for Caspian to have a chair if he wished. They could share the workload like this, each having their tasks and duties, with the ability to consult each other…

But the stacks were so high…

"It looks like a lot's been done," trying to see the glass as half full rather than half empty.

Inigo got up, going to the clay stove where a jug was set next to it, to keep the spiced wine warm, "Methinks that I heard a note of 'but' in there."

"Well…" blowing air out of her cheeks, puffing them, "it's just so much to do."

An earthenware cup was set next to her, "Running a nation will be even harder m'Lord Susan. But you will have more bureaucrats to help with the running of it. As much as they can be a hindrance, servants and aristos do have their place in the hierarchy. They make the job," making himself comfortable once more next to her, "of ruling somewhat easier. There is only so much one person can do at once."

"Oh trust me I know, and try," sipping some of the wine, it was pungent and made the back of her tongue tingle, "telling that to Caspian. Before I came into the picture it was just him and Glenstorm doing everything. Except Morningdew was head of the scouts. That was all the help he had."

"All the help he would allow you mean?" reaching to one of the 'In' trays, skimming the words on the page.

Giggling, "Yes."

"That sounds about like him," watching as Inigo checked his inkpot and trimmed his quill, "but up until then the only thing Caspian was ever in control of was the stables and seeing to the training of the Royal Cavalry. Commanding that is very different than commanding something so large as this. To be sure he must have been half out of his mind with the minutia."

There was a tsk-tsk from Yasmina and Susan saw her giving Inigo a look, "It is not good to speak ill of the man who will be your King."

He waved his hand dismissively, "Yasmina, I merely state the truth – Caspian never had the preparation for this. To fair he would know how to handle everything if it was presented in some sort of order. A King's role is to make decisions, not wade neck deep in the trivialities. That is what Caspian was trained for: decision making, not all this," wrinkling his nose at the piles of work surrounding them, "this…"

"Shit?"

To that Inigo chuckled, "You have such a foul mouth for a woman m'Lord, it is little wonder I thought you a man."

"Here I thought it was the clothes…" picking up a request for her judgment on a dispute.

He gave her a rather pointed look, "Well those skirts hide more than your leathers, how was I supposed to know that a woman would look that good in trews?"

"As opposed to a man?" Yasmina's mutter was quiet, and Susan almost didn't catch it.

"Well don't you think men look good in pants? I always thought they'd look strange in skirts, but there was this one Scot back in England," musing aloud, "and I must say he had such _fine_ legs when he showed them off when he wore his kilt…"

"I do not think I will be wearing a kilt and showing off my legs anytime soon," rolling his eyes, Inigo set back to work.

"I wonder if Caspian would?" stifling a giggle at the image of Caspian, whom while very well built, had knobby knees and somewhat scrawny calves, wearing a blue, yellow and black tartan highland kilt.

It was a good thought.

XXX

Wiping the sweat from his face, Caspian watched Lurrulg drain half a skin of water, "Next time, do not pull your swings."

"Trust me Your Highness, I wasn't," moving to sit on a rock.

"Ah, then try harder," reaching for the waterskin.

The minotaur's look was hard to read, Caspian still had trouble sometimes figuring out the facial expressions of some races of Narnians, "I'll admit you're good with a weapon and getting better."

"Mph, high praise from a warrior like you," shooting a jet of lukewarm water into his mouth. Wiping his mouth off, "But I wonder – how would you do in a battle?"

Lurrulg drew himself up, squaring his shoulders, "I have been in ten skirmishes, protecting my clan's lands from Telmarine intruders."

Sniffing, "Decent," conceding.

"Fine then, how many have you been in?" rumbling, the minotaur checked the edge of his great scythe.

"In this business Lurrulg, it is hard to know how many fights I have been in," sighing, unsure of why he was reaching out to this man who obviously didn't care much for him, "or how many I have killed. In duels? I know that number exactly: twenty-eight. A fair number I suppose." Glancing at Lurrulg from the corner of his eye, "But in battle there is little art, there is no such thing as fair or unfair. If there is someone trying to kill you who is bigger, faster, stronger, smarter or more experienced – fairness never enters into the situation. Survival is the only sign of wining, and the numbers mean nothing in the long run, just that you have survived. And I have survived. Always."

The minotaur frowned, or at least Caspian thought he frowned, "At the cost of many."

Nodding, "Yes, of many on both sides. There are those I kill, there are those who defend me and die, there are those I order to their possible or probably deaths, and then there are those…" Caspian paused, the thought something Susan would point out, not one he had ever considered, and continued, "And then there are those who die because of those I have killed directly."

"You actually sound like you don't care for it," and that was a definite sound of surprise.

"Killing? No I do like killing, I am Telmarine," shaking his head, "At least that is, I like the act of it. The," stumbling over the word, "consequences of killing… Families with no provider, a life cut short that could have had meaning no matter how simple, I do not like that." Grunting, Caspian rose, "Enough. Have you rested enough for another bout?" raising his weapons, holding them at the ready.

"I have another shift," sheathing his scythe, "there's rock to be hauled and worked for the catapults."

Baring his teeth in a grimace, "You are full of many excuses minotaur."

"And yet I still waste my time training with you…" shrugging.

Grumbling, Caspian sheathed his weapons, "Fine, go on, do your duty I suppose. Not that one more person is truly going to make a difference…" and he really wanted to get some more practice in, Caspian knew he wasn't at full strength, maybe half, but not full.

What he needed was a challenge….

Crossing his arms, Caspian pondered that for a minute, then alighted on an idea – how does one fight a larger being? Grinning momentarily, Caspian went to go find Peredur. A quick search yielded results, the huge Stallion helping drag one of the war machines into position now that it had been transported in pieces by sleighs drawn by gryphons.

Waiting until there was a pause in the labor, then approached in a friendly manner, "Ah my good friend Peredur, perhaps you could find it in your noble heart to assist me with something?"

Peredur glared, glancing at the other Narnians who were about, "And to what do I owe such insult? To be considered your friend is…" it was announced loudly, ensuring that the Narnians would all hear his protests clearly.

"Ah but, friend Horse… that is what you are!" taking perverse enjoyment in baiting Peredur, making him as uncomfortable as possible – all knew that there was no love lost between Rider and Steed. It would make Peredur look bad if he denied his Rider but also it would look worse (in some eyes at least) that Peredur may actually be _friendly_ with Caspian, "My Steed, and – my sparring partner perhaps?"

There was a bugle as Peredur neighed, loudly, clicking his teeth several times, "Not even in your wildest dreams!"

"Yes but I have dreamed of this," patting Peredur with 'open' affection, smiling wide for their audience, "having a Steed such as you, 'tis an honour. So, as your Rider, friend Peredur, I require some assistance..."

Caspian wasn't really leaving Peredur a choice, for he had agreed to bear Caspian until such a time that it would be convenient to kill the Royal Consort. It was perhaps a touch mean spirited, but Caspian had to take his pleasures where he could, and this was most certainly pleasurable. Not only that, but it reminded Peredur that Caspian was the one with power right now, and that the Horse had staked his honour on serving Caspian for the duration.

It was quite difficult to keep himself from rubbing his hands together in glee at seeing Peredur so discomforted, but somehow Caspian managed to turn it into a business like clap, "I knew you would see things my way!" moving to remove the harness that Peredur was strapped into.

"I didn't even say I would do it!" tail swishing up so hard it whipped Caspian in the face.

Taking it, Caspian went on blithely, "Now, as we cannot practice in the Stone Table Room – not enough space truly for an equine-to-foot fight – we should perhaps do it out here? Spectators would be pleasant, no?"

It was said for multiple reasons, firstly it would ensure that Peredur was careful to not actually harm Caspian for there'd be too many witnesses, secondly thrashing Peredur publicly would be good for Caspian's image, and thirdly it would make Caspian look confident and comfortable with his standing with the Narnians as a whole. And if Caspian was lucky, bets would be made for or against him, as to who the victor would be – a tidy bit of public relations as Susan would say. 'Get to know them, let them know you' sort of thing. As though he didn't do that already, but at least this would bring him something akin to fun. Plus it would give Caspian a much needed workout – fighting a horse or Horse was a difficult thing, they were bigger, faster, stronger and had hooves. There was really no way Peredur could actually attack him 'safely' other than shouldering him or butting him with his head. To be sure not even those things were all that safe either, and that in of itself would drive Caspian to be fleeter on his feet.

Peredur was simply standing there, glaring as he muttered, "You're daft Lord of Fools if you think I'll –" he cut himself off, looking around at a few dozen expectant faces.

"You were saying friend Peredur?" mild, glancing at the Narnians as though curious as to what Peredur was looking at. "Well then, now that that is settled, let us move out of everyone's way…"

There was a cleared stone section, some long fallen into disrepair shrine that stood before the How, and Peredur trotted carefully over to it, moving side by side with Caspian. For his part, Caspian was pleased, this would be a challenge, for Peredur was wily and experienced in dirty fighting. Trading his sword and dagger for a staff, Caspian limbered up, stretching while twirling the long pole around getting familiar with its weight. Satisfied that it would suffice and that he wasn't likely to strain a muscle, Caspian nodded to Peredur who had been trotting back and forth, his version of stretching finished as well.

Without warning, Peredur lowered his head, and sprang forward. Weaving aside narrowly, Caspian whacked Peredur firmly on the rump with a swing, before spinning on one foot. Jabbing the blunt end of the quarterstaff in Peredur's side before dancing away, giving the Horse room to maneuver rather than chancing another score to the Stallion. Snorting and pawing, Peredur tilted his head, sizing Caspian up. Widening his stance, left foot slipping back to brace him, Caspian waited letting his Steed figure out what he wanted to do.

"This is an unfair match Lying Consort," it was a grunt, bucking, his hind legs lashing out, before his hooves hit frozen stone with a heavy clatter.

His laugh genuine, "All matches are unfair friend Horse!"

"As I cannot use my hooves," tossing his head, "and I cannot – "

"Then work your magic Horse, and let us test each other," saying it only loud enough for him to hear.

Peredur snorted a few times, consternated, lips pulling back from his huge blocky teeth. Meanwhile Caspian kept his weapon whirling lazily around him, switching grips and setting up a dull blond blur in front of himself. He knew the movement was hard to track, and the eye – be it human, Horse or any other creature – would _want_ to track it. At least instinctively. It was a trick to confuse them, almost as good, or in some instances better, as a shield.

Surprising Caspian, Peredur shook his head, "No. I'll not play this game with you King of Nothing."

"Horse!" calling as Peredur turned away. "I have given you leave to use all your arsenal against me, do you quit the field of battle out of cowardice? Or do you concede something else to me? I thought you were a Horse without peer, with no parallel among the Herds. Was I wrong in this belief?"

A collective gasp rippled through the assembled Narnians, and Peredur froze mid-step, his tail stiffening and standing to attention. Caspian hadn't insulted Peredur, but he had questioned Peredur's reasons for leaving – which was a valid thing. Not sparing a glance to the Narnians, Caspian waited, tense, but not out of fear for his person. He wanted to, no _needed_ to know what sort of Horse Peredur was. And this was a test of that… An unplanned one, but a good one nonetheless.

Very slowly, each muscle visibly moving beneath his scarred yet glossy black hide, Peredur turned. With great care the Stallion approached Caspian, until they were mere inches apart, and he towered over Caspian. Standing there, Peredur looked down his wide nose at him, something roiling and dark there. Something that if Caspian were any other man, he'd be afraid of. But he knew that look, he knew that chaos. It was all too familiar.

"You can't cow me or insult me or manipulate me _Telmarine_. All things will come to those who are deserving," it was soft, but it carried in the crisp air. "You are the War Leader, the Royal Consort, and a Prince of Narnia. I may wish it were not so, for no Telmarine aristo belongs with us. All of them should be put to the sword, their bones and meat used to fertilize the land that they've poisoned. But I am loyal to Narnia. To myself. And to my kind. I concede nothing to you, nor will I ever do so. My bravery, my honour, nor my willingness to carry you into battle as my Rider will ever be in doubt. Even to my death. But I won't play games. No matter who orders me to do so."

Caspian held his gaze, having tucked his quarterstaff under his arm long ago, "Then I shall concede the field to you Sir Peredur, as you have won this bout," bowing incrementally.

It was not a hard thing to do, Caspian had to admire Peredur's strength and his willingness to do what was necessary for his people. How well Caspian knew that feeling, that drive to do things that were distasteful to him, all for the sake of those he was to rule. Everyone's surprise was evident, but Peredur didn't betray his own, except through his eyes. This close Caspian could see them widen, the long thick lashes twitch the tiniest amount. Let his actions be food for thought, fuel for gossip. In the end, no matter what the outcome would have been from this battle – whether it had been physical, or the one of wits that had just taken place – Caspian would come out ahead. The Narnians would see their Royal Consort as worthy, no matter what he had to do to ensure that. These were his people, he was their drive given form, their need given voice and body, their years of misery lent strength to lead them from privation. What did it matter that he wasn't their King yet? All in all, they would respect him, and he would protect them, while Susan may be their beacon of faith, their guide in the dark, he would be their armor.

So whatever he had to do to teach them that, he would do.

The contest of wills, Peredur trying to stare Caspian down with Caspian not giving an inch or making an attack of his own, went on for a short eternity. Finally Peredur nodded to him once, then turned, head held high, his steps surefooted. Narnians dispersed afterwards, nothing left to be said or seen, and Caspian watched, their whispers a soft rustle on the wind that he couldn't make out. But it didn't matter one bit. Despite this small victory, Caspian was irritated – he had yet to get a good physical workout, even though he and Lurrulg had sparred off and on for two hours.

What he needed was Grilf. Or someone good with a sword who was a near even match for him. Growling to himself quietly, there was one person who actually _fit_ that description: Inigo. Sighing heavily, Caspian's feet crunched through the icy snow, making his way back into the How. Smoke from torches had blackened part of the stone of the inner entrance, leaving dark smudges going up the walls, and if Caspian looked up, he'd see how sooty the ceilings were. But he didn't, it was all familiar and felt like home. He belonged here, despite the Narnians rejection. That did hurt, making him want to lash out and take it out on someone. And he had the perfect person to fill that role nearby. Nodding to a few Narnians who had been with him since the beginning, their smiles warm and friendly, Caspian continued past the ever present squirreling away of weapons, making weapons, practicing with weapons, and feeding the weapons – his soldiers that is.

Making a beeline for what was now called The Office by some, a place where Inigo, Glenstorm, and Morningdew had been running the war effort while he and Susan had been on 'holidays'. Pausing on the verge, Caspian tried to keep the menacing scowl from his face. Susan was laughing while Inigo gesticulated over something and Yasmina was sewing while shaking her head. It was all too… _cozy_ for his liking. It was almost as though they were all close friends, who could all share a joke no one but them would understand. Gritting his teeth, Caspian told himself he'd take it out of Inigo's hide, this camaraderie, during a bout of sparring.

Crossing the threshold, "Inigo, I have a task for you."

"Your Highness," he rose quickly, bowing low, "I am yours to command."

"My skills are not what they once were," leaving out the fact that it was Inigo's fault in the first place that he had been so severely injured and then incapable of actually keeping his body up, "and I require a sparring partner to re-hone my forms."

Inigo only nodded, "I would be more than happy Your Highness to assist. My own forms are a bit lacking of late, I have not held a blade – be it a wooden practice one or one of steel – in what does seem to be forever." His teeth were brilliantly white and perfectly even, (while Caspian's teeth were mostly even, one of his front teeth was longer than the other, and being reminded of Inigo's 'perfection' was irksome), as he smiled slightly, his thick black goatee framing his mouth, "But I must beg your help in gaining a weapon, as part of my duty includes me not being allowed any sort of armaments."

Susan interrupted, "Caspian, I know you want to get back into shape, but," she waved a hand at the desk, "we could really use some help… There's even another chair here for you."

Caspian's gaze flicked to her, seeing the hopeful look on her face, "It looks as though things are in hand. Inigo," glancing over at him, jerking his chin to the door, his tone making it an order rather than a request, "shall we?"

"Hold on," Susan got up, crossing her arms, "now look, I'm being patient. I need help with this. Inigo's invaluable, but so are you Caspian. We're all together in this boat, and both of you are going to damn well start acting like it! Later you can beat on each other with big sticks, but until I get at least halfway through this mountain, you're not allowed to."

Gritting his teeth, Susan was humiliating him – in front of Inigo no less! – which while allowable in private, this was a touch much, "Susan."

"Inigo, sit back down, we've got lists to go over," waving her hand at him, "Caspian you can join us or you can find someone else to torment. I'd rather you helped, because this is your job too."

How dare she speak as though he wasn't interested in being involved? It was Susan who had taken all the work from him, it's not as though he'd given it away!

Dispersing the tension the way only a diplomat could, "Perhaps there are a few things that could be done quickly? M'Lord Susan, I must say I would very much like to have a bit of physical activity, but I also do not wish to leave so much on your shoulders." Inigo glanced at him, "Your assistance would be more than welcome Your Highness, and it would add to the efficiency of the tasks before m'Lord Susan."

Gnashing his teeth, jaw locked, Caspian tried to not show his rage, "Of course. I could spare an hour or so," not wanting to look like he was the lesser man.

Susan sighed in relief, "Thank you Caspian."

Caspian dragged his chair from one end of the desk, setting it next to Susan's, and sat stiffly.

"M'Lord Susan, would you care for a refill?" perfectly polite, perfectly cordial – was there anything about Inigo that wasn't perfect? – still standing, the young Lord moved towards the terra cotta stove.

"Inigo – are you trying to get me in my cups?" laughing.

Caspian didn't like that, how comfortable Susan was with Inigo. Not one bit. Maybe staying to keep an eye on things was a good idea, Caspian felt a tendril of jealousy creeping into his veins. He hated how polished Inigo was, it used to not bother him so much, but Susan had said she liked romance and perfection… And there were so many things that Inigo excelled at, Susan and his cousin probably had more in common than he and she did. Watching from the corner of his eye as Inigo brought over the pitcher, a second cup in his hand, that he filled to the brim after pouring a good measure for Susan.

"The thought had never crossed my mind," grinning, "as for my cousin on the other hand, he is amusing while in such a state. I say, Your Highness, would you care for some mulled wine?" holding out the second cup to Caspian.

Eyeing it suspiciously, Caspian didn't say anything.

Seeing that he didn't want any, Inigo shrugged, and took a deep drink, "Ah, that is certainly satisfying." Making himself comfortable, "Mother's recipe never fails to warm and relax, no matter the stress of the day."

"You made Aunt Krillissia's mulled wine?" surprised. Caspian had a few fond youthful memories of his aunt, and sitting by the fireplace, a large mug of wine in his hands, it's spiciness warming his belly with comfort. He also remembered that Aunt Krillissia had guarded her recipe tooth and nail, the only place to get such a pleasant draft was while in her company.

"Well yes," reaching for his cup to take a much more sedate sip, "the How is warm, but with winter in the air, I have found that its comfort is still welcome. One of the more pleasant aspects of home brought to life."

"You really should have some Caspian," Susan's hand under the table went to his thigh, touching him softly, affectionately, "it's really good."

Caving, "Is there a third cup?"

XXX

Yasmina waddled beside her, wide as a house, "Your Majesty?"

"Hmm?" making sure to keep her pace slow enough for the Telmarine woman to keep up, "What's on your mind?"

"I… I do not mean to question you, Your Majesty," she paused, wincing, and pushing her hand into the small of her back, "but do you think this is wise?"

Susan thought for a moment, "You mean Caspian and Inigo sparring?"

Nodding, "Yes," moving forward, hips rolling and Susan thought that Yasmina was a bit large for only being six or seven months along, "Inigo is long out of practice, and His Highness is supposed to be superlative with a blade in his hand."

"You're worried Caspian may hurt Inigo?" their conversation was low, the two men in question several steps ahead of them, with Inigo carrying the practice weapons.

"I do not mean to give insult," voice soft, worry making her brow crease, "but Inigo has done great harm to your husband, and His Highness is duty bound to reclaim his honour."

Lending Yasmina her arm to lean on, "Don't worry, Caspian isn't going to kill him in a practice bout or hurt him Yasmina. If he wanted to punish Inigo he would have done so by now."

Surprised, Yasmina's large round light brown eyes widened lending her a doe-like innocence, "He is Telmarine Your Majesty, and to not exercise his right is to show vulnerability. This he cannot do."

"It doesn't show vulnerability, it shows his humanity," Susan pursed her lips, "his ability to rule hinges on the mercy he can show."

"Mercy?" Yasmina patted at her hair, obviously uncomfortable.

"Is that such a strange concept to you Yasmina?"

"Mercy is for the weak," disbelieving, "it is for women. Men cannot show it, or the others will fall upon those who show it. Mercy is not allowable. It is not the Telmarine way."

Sighing, "Yasmina, Caspian isn't Telmarine – he's Narnian. At heart that is who and what he is. It's just eclipsed by the monstrosity of the Council's ideals and his upbringing." Curious, "Do you think Inigo wouldn't spare Caspian if the roles were reversed? They are blood after all."

Finally they reached the Stone Table Room, the wide space ideal despite its obstacles for this supposedly friendly bout. Caspian removed his sword from his belt, propping the weapon against the wall, near a fallen pillar that would make Susan and Yasmina a perfect spot to sit. Guiding the heavily pregnant woman to one side, Susan wondered what she would look like when it was time for her to become pregnant with Caspian's child. Would it leave her so large, looking ready to pop at any moment, or would she carry the baby high as some women did?

Getting settled, "That would mean that their rivalry should know no bounds Your Majesty," not really answering her question.

Making herself comfortable Susan watched as Inigo stripped down to his undershirt and trews, tossing his doublet aside. His chin length wavy black hair was pulled back into a thong, keeping it from his face. Caspian, standing opposite made no preparations at all other than bending over to touch his toes. Displaying his flexibility, Caspian didn't stop there, wrapping his arms around the backs of his thighs, folding almost entirely in half. Chewing her lip, Susan had to admit Caspian looked quite handsome in his rough hunting leathers and tunic. Beside her, Yasmina squirmed, hand rubbing her belly in an absentminded fashion.

"They're very different from each other," commenting as both men raised their practice swords, bowing incrementally.

Inigo took the offensive, lunging forward smoothly, and Caspian batted his cousin's blade aside, hand lashing out to smack Inigo before sidestepping. Their fighting styles were different too, Caspian was short stabs and rough movements, almost like he was fighting dirty. Practical and vicious. While Inigo was a study of technical perfection. It was intriguing, because Susan was sure that if it came right down to it, Caspian would win by any means necessary.

Sweat began to collect on their shirts, making parts of the material cling, mostly to back and underarms. After fifteen minutes of their shuffling dance, Caspian held his hand up, signaling a stop. His belt came off, and he stripped free of his metal studded jerkin, throwing it in his sword's general direction before replacing the wide leather belt. With a nod, they went back, extend-riposte-lunge-sway-kick or hand whipping out to score strikes at one another. Caspian at one point held his sword up, and used the hilt and his fist to punch Inigo in the sternum while keeping a tight hold on Inigo's wrist, preventing him from using his own sword to hit Caspian. Boots scuffing on stone, kicking up dust in small clouds, testing one another with the points of their blunted blades, circling, and Susan thought that it was one of the most interesting sights in her life. She had never actually seen Caspian practice with another person, only having seen him move in long smooth motions. He called them 'swordforms', and to her it had only seemed a beautiful dance. Now seeing the practical use of it, Susan knew it for what it was – a dance of swaying, bobbing, weaving death. That didn't make it any less breathtaking.

"A moment Your Highness?" slightly winded, Inigo gestured.

Nodding, "If you require it, I suppose."

Gratefully, Inigo nodded, and peeled his shirt off, displaying a decently built upper body. Beside her, Yasmina sighed almost dreamily.

Giggling, Susan looked at her, "Now I understand what you see in him."

"He truly is perfect," leaning over, whispering to Susan, "and all of him is much like that."

There were thick lines over Inigo's chest, one going from his left shoulder across his torso to slip into the right side of his pants. Innumerable smaller ones were all over his shoulders, arms and stomach, each one pale with age for the most part. As Inigo and Caspian wove their blades and moved around, Susan saw Inigo's back – she could actually see patches of his natural skin beneath the scars on his back. Unlike Caspian, it was apparent that Inigo hadn't suffered the way his cousin had.

Commenting, "He has less scars on his back than Caspian."

"Really?" Yasmina tilted her head, studying the two men. Caspian hadn't taken off his shirt, but now it was clinging to him even more, a dark stain on his back and underarms showing the definition of his muscles. "Most of Inigo's marks were dealt at Caspian's hands," nodding at a Inigo, "the longest one is from General Glozelle, he gained it when he was nineteen."

"Why?"

"Because Inigo had told the General," sounding scandalized, "that the Council should not rule his actions in regards to Caspian's training."

Frowning, cupping her chin, "Inigo defended Caspian?"

"Why yes," bemused, "which is very strange. There was much talk about them among the Sons, and not a few of the Daughters as well. They are very strange indeed, for as close they are in blood, they should have been at the other's throat. But they were not, and many times Inigo would back Caspian, diving into the fights with the other Sons."

"He sounds like Edmund," feeling wistful, missing her little brother.

"Edmund? That is a strange name Your Majesty," patting her hand.

Smiling, "Ed is my younger brother, when Peter – my older brother, would get into fights Edmund would always jump in. Ed always liked to act like he didn't care about us, but in truth Edmund is the best brother anyone can have. I like," scooting closer to Yasmina who was looking a bit wilted, and wrapped a supporting arm around her back, "to think of Caspian and Inigo as that close. I think they can be again. If only Caspian would stop being such a boar."

"I do not think he means any harm," laying her head on Susan's shoulder, yawning in her fatigue. Telmarine women it seemed had no problem with touch of such nature, which gave Susan hope for Caspian's people overall.

Laughing, "Yes but he is a bit lacking on charm. Unlike your Inigo."

Yet another pause, this time on Caspian's part, and his shirt joined his jerkin. Then a rapid flurry of movement commenced, blunt steel clashing and Caspian's body began to move, following the blade his actions settling into a steady rhythm going from mere physical exertion into something more elegant. It was as though Caspian had worked his aggression out, and now Inigo and he were truly sparring. Like it was _fun_ almost.

There was a soft giggle, and Yasmina tilted her face, looking up at Susan, "His Highness is certainly… put together well." She flushed, then went back to looking at Caspian, "He is very virile to say the least, his endurance knows no bounds... You are quite a lucky woman Your Majesty. A true Telmarine man to be proud of."

"His endurance?" trying to figure out if Yasmina meant Caspian's muscles and how they rippled underneath his tawny skin as he sweated… or something else.

A nod, "Oh yes, just look at him," waving her hand to encompass Caspian, "he bears his marks of adulthood with pride and he has so many of them…"

Shocked, "You mean the scars? You," mortified, "you find them… _attractive_?"

"Of course," perplexed, "do you not find them to accentuate his masculinity?"

Thinking it over, watching as Inigo went on the defensive, yielding ground, "I find… Caspian to be beautiful. But not because of his scars, only because he's… well… he's Caspian, and I love him."

Yasmina blushed crimson at Susan's open admission, "Your Majesty!"

"What?" not aware of her faux pas.

Whispering, "You should be careful of such statements. Men do not wish to hear them very often, and other men think a loved man is a weak one."

Snorting, "Caspian's not weak. He's strong, stronger than any of what your Telmarine men are, to be sure." Amending, "Except perhaps Inigo, but even he's not as… he's different. To tell the truth, I don't think I'll like Telmarine men much, they sound positively horrid."

Straightening up, Yasmina turned to face Susan, "Men are different where you come from?"

"Very," rolling her eyes, "to say the least."

Cocking her head, "Caspian is very different if one is to believe the gossip."

"Oh? What sort of gossip?" leaning in to listen, keeping one eye on Inigo and Caspian.

"Well," drawing the word out, taking hold of both of Susan's hands, "I know of this one girl, she says he is very strange in the bedroom. And that he did not even hit her! Not once did he tell her her place, and not only that, but he," another one of her gentle giggles, "was beyond courteous. He was sure to take care of her desires before his own…"

Taken aback, not used to the idea of such a frank conversation on Caspian's earlier conquests, "Um… really?"

"Oh yes," nodding vigorously, "and he even let them stay and sleep."

"That is… abnormal?"

Yasmina blinked, "Of course. Inigo is the only man I have had that is anything like that. He likes to hold me close at night, and he has never struck me either. But," she thought about it a moment, "men are supposed to be commanding. To be anything less is an aberration, if all men were to act thusly, then," spreading her hands, "women would try to gain power over the men. And that is wrong, women – we do not have heads for anything but softness and pretty things. Powerful women only lead others into destruction and chaos." Pausing, "Please pardon me Your Majesty, I did not mean to imply that – "

Waving her hand, "No, no. It's fine. But, women are men's equals, women are just as capable as men."

Gasping, pressing her hand to her mouth, "Your Majesty! No, this is not so, do not," glancing fearfully towards their respective men, "do not say such things. It is… taboo."

Frowning, "Why?"

"Because," searching for the words, then shook her head, "because it just is. Women are not meant to lead, that is the way it has always been."

Reaching out, Susan tucked a stray strand of hair from Yasmina's face, "No it hasn't. Queen Nylasmina was the head of your people's army, and Lucitania lead the navy."

Shaking her head adamantly, "No that is not so. We were taught that the Queens were –"

"They were Narnian, Yasmina," trying to dispel the veil of ignorance – if she could just start small, Susan was sure she could spread the progress, "and Narnian women were any man's equal. Luis, he's something of a historian among his Herd, and he was telling me of the Telmarine and Narnian kingdom of old. High King Krispen supposedly was a terrible Rider I may add," wanting to drive home the idea that men weren't always capable.

Yasmina's eyes flitted around nervously, chewing her lip, as though she feared harm for hearing such sacrilegious things, "Your Majesty, please, do not say such things. His Highness may hear you…"

"He already knows those things," firm, "and what's more he believes them as well. Luis and Caspian have both told me of how your histories have been warped, twisted to suit the Lords desires."

"Your Majesty, _please_ you must understand," desperately, Yasmina looked like she wanted to bolt, "women have their places. Men have theirs. This is the way of it! It will be hard enough for the Council to accept a woman who can read…let alone one who speaks such… wickedness."

Eyes widening, mouth hanging open, "You can't read?"

"Of course not!" shuddering, then she sighed gustily, "I can write my name… But that is all!" rushing that out, revealing it, expecting recrimination.

Susan of course didn't feel anything but sadness, "That's a start, I could teach you how to read if you like. Then you could help Inigo with his duties. Share them together, the way a man and wife should."

Yasmina shuddered, arms going around her middle, hugging herself.

Seeking to ease her, Susan changed the subject back to the men, "They are very nimble."

"Yes," nodding with a small voice, huddling in on herself.

Sighing, Susan didn't know what to do – she hadn't meant to distress Yasmina so much. What would it be like to live in such a limited hell? Susan couldn't even imagine it – and she vowed she'd never let her children grow up believing such vile nonsense. If she bore Caspian a daughter, their daughter would be educated, she would be Heir on merit. Damn the Council and any of their ideas, Susan wouldn't allow it. And if she were to have a son? The same would apply, for no son of hers would be a Telmarine monster. Anyone who tried to make any child of hers into such a creature would be killed. With her bare hands if need be.

Yasmina was staring inwards, eyes unfocused, only tracking Caspian and Inigo's motions, but not paying attention, and Susan just wanted to make her feel better. But how to go about doing something like that when the other person thought she was just fine the way she was, and couldn't see what had been so wrong with her beliefs? Then again, Susan knew forcing her own beliefs onto Yasmina was wrong. With Caspian it was different, she could bludgeon him all she wanted, and in the end if Caspian didn't want to see, he wouldn't. Deep down Caspian had just only known the one thing, and if someone made him open his eyes, he was willing to listen. Unfortunately with Yasmina, it seemed like she wouldn't ever be comfortable with such a thing.

There was a laugh, interrupting Susan's musings, "Cousin, I think I should be whipped a few times… I appear to be losing the interest of the ladies.."

Caspian grunted, "I could add a few scars to your collection, a moment and I shall retrieve my sword cousin. Let us see if the womenfolk like your new beauty marks!" his sword slipped through Inigo's defense, tapping him on the abdomen.

"My beauty is not in question Your Highness," smacking at Caspian's blade, circling to the left, "but if my lady prefers more then I shall gladly allow you to add to my collection!"

Tossing his head, wet hair glued to his neck, "Why not just knock a few of your perfect teeth loose instead?"

The pace picked up, their swords blurring, "You seek payback for that? That was almost twelve years ago!"

Sounding surprisingly close to a chuckle, "Yes well you were bigger than I! And you used your size to cheat!"

"And you were impudent and needed a good solid whack to keep you in your place!" Inigo leaped backwards, almost stumbling on a step, but recovered his footing quickly.

Following, Caspian took the three steps in a jump, "So? I was Heir," switching hands, skin stretching in his back as Susan watched, "and you were merely a year my senior!" His foot lashed out, kicking Inigo, "So my impudence is to be forgiven!"

Inigo was quiet for a moment, but for the grunts of exertion, having to work hard to fend Caspian off, "Fine, I shall admit it, I was ordered to do it, to create rivalry between us." Scoring a whack to Caspian's thigh, hard enough Susan was sure there'd be a bruise there later, "Glozelle was a harsh taskmaster, he did not care for our closeness."

"I thought," backing off, Caspian raked his free hand through his hair, "it was because he wished for me to kill you? For that is what I was told."

Pausing, sword held point down, "Then it must have been under Miraz's orders."

Cocking his head, "Yes, I suppose I could see that. It does hold a certain logic: deprive the Throne of the Secondary Heir… then.." in a burst of motion that Inigo only narrowly blocked, "umph! the Heir! Either way Miraz would then be the sole person available to take the Throne."

"Most likely, a tragic accident? You were too vicious for your own good, if you had not insisted on taking on the larger Sons," spinning on a foot to the side, so that he was behind Caspian, who turned in time to prevent another point to Inigo, "so often I think it would have gone better for you...."

"Yasmina?" leaning close, "What are they talking about?"

"The Sons?"

"No, no, that Caspian was too vicious…?"

She thought for a moment before answering, "Caspian was always getting into fights with those who were his elders. I do not know why, but it was a well known fact that he would attack any and all who came his way. But only if they were older than he." Adjusting her skirts with a flick, "It is customary for the older boys to beat on those younger than themselves. It helps to build character and endurance. He never did that," clarifying, "beat those younger than himself that is. The older Sons were not safe from his fists or any other thing of his. When he was twelve he struck down two Sons who were older than him by nigh on five years. 'Twas a dangerous thing for him to do."

Stammering, "He killed them? When he was _twelve_?"

She 'mmhmmed', "It marked him as dangerous and no Son would go against him willingly unless they had backing or worked together. Even so, Caspian often beat them back, making them pay for any injury he sustained. At least, that is what the other Daughters overheard. Many wondered at how to gain his attentions because of this."

"And did they?"

She shrugged, "Some. He appeared to not care much one way or another. Unlike his counterparts Caspian did not frequent as many women. Inigo was quite another matter entirely."

Somehow Susan thought that fit, "He was a womanizer. I suppose that makes sense."

"Womanizer?"

"Someone who takes many women to bed, not caring for them at all, only for his own pleasures."

"Then all men are womanizers," accepting it easily, "it is their right."

Grumbling, "Well Caspian better not think to act that way. I'll have to beat him otherwise."

Jaw dropping, "Beat him? He is your husband!"

"So? If he thinks he can chase any skirt he wants, he'll find out quickly that I simply won't tolerate it," crossing her arms, and nodding once decisively.

The men had finally ceased their match, both breathing heavily as they flopped onto the steps before the carving of Aslan. Inigo was watching them, while Caspian had closed his eyes, head hanging backwards his body covered in a bright sheen. Meeting Inigo's eyes, Susan found it hard to puzzle out what the look meant. It was measuring and curious. Unable to figure out what that could possibly signify, but she decided it wasn't all that worrisome.

Rising, Susan went to Caspian, making a place beside him, "You fight like a demon."

"So I have been told," nodding, resting his weight behind him on his elbows, "Inigo – see to your woman."

"Yes Your Highness," lumbering up, giving them a perfunctory bow before leaving to help Yasmina.

Brushing some of the perspiration from his forehead away, "It's nice to see you two getting along."

He was silent, watching as his cousin left the Room, "I do not trust him."  
"Why not?"

Caspian deflected her question, "You were conversing with Yasmina quite animatedly."

Now that they were alone, Susan lay her cheek on his shoulder, "The poor thing can't read Caspian. Women where you come from… it's just criminal how they're treated Caspian. It's so wrong…"

"It is the way things are," turning his head, lips on her forehead.

Wiggling closer, hugging him, "But they don't have to be."

"Susan, you cannot force change too quickly, or," his arm came around her waist, keeping her close, "the conservatives will dig their feet in, and seek to be rid of the threat to their way of life. Using any means necessary."

Pulling away enough so she could see his expression clearly, "But you _are_ willing to make them change. Right?"

"I do not see as you leave me a choice," grasping her hand, and pulling it to his stomach, "as you have told me you will leave me if I do not. And with… your… _status_ I could not prevent you from doing so if it was your wish."

"When we have children," unaware of the effect her statement of 'when' not 'if' had on Caspian, "we can't let them be like that. We just can't Caspian, it's _wrong_. Women aren't chattel, and the people aren't slaves either. But the Lords seem to think that women and the general people have no further use than serving their desires. That's now how to make life good for others."

Sitting up, shifting so that he could draw her between his legs, "Life is not supposed to be good for anyone but the Lords. That is how they think, for no one is as important as they are." Letting Caspian frame her face with his hands, "You and I know that people work best, yield the most, when they are satisfied or at least content with their lot. With hopes to better themselves. This concept means thinking not of themselves in the here and now. It is absent and not native to their personalities nor their upbringings."

"You're different from them Caspian, you know that things need to change… that they must change," bracing her hands on his chest.

Exhaling, puffing out his cheeks, "I am not sure that they must other than acceptance of the Narnians. Not entirely. Yet I cannot forget the lessons I have learned here. I cannot forget the fact that I have been immersed in this way of life and been affected by it. Whether it is for the best," shrugging a shoulder, "I do not know."

Susan wanted to tell him it was, but Caspian didn't seem ready to hear it. She didn't want to sound like a broken record, or to nag him. That's not how to get the right results. In the end Caspian would have to come to his own decisions, with her help if he'd let her, but it was all up to him. There was only so much she could do.


	27. Chapter 25

XXX

Chapter 25

XXX

He was full of too much energy. In fact, everything that was going on was all Susan's fault. All of it. Caspian didn't care if he was supposed to be understanding, or supportive. It was just _too_ much. How long had he just bit his tongue and gone on as though nothing was wrong for the sake of Susan and his pride? Too long, far too long. Striding down the hallway not watching where he was going, Caspian sailed past everyone. Not a single Narnian stopped him, and Caspian, so deep into his internal turmoil, didn't notice this abnormality.

So little did he notice his surroundings, that Caspian didn't stop or look where he was going. And proceeded to overtake a waddling Yasmina who was engrossed in her own little world as well. Bumping into her hard enough to knock her over, Caspian's reflexes won out and he caught Yasmina just in time to prevent her from falling. Leaning over, his arm around her waist, Caspian felt the hard mound of Yasmina's heavy belly pressing into his abdomen. Finding himself blushing at the contact for some strange reason, and among the many things he hadn't detected was Yasmina's own flush of embarrassment.

Blinking rapidly, irritation forgotten for the moment, "My apologies Lady Yasmina."

"That is," going a dark ruddy shade, hands braced on his shoulders still, "quite all right Your Highness."

They stayed like that for a moment, the brief second seeming to last a major eternity. Caspian hadn't ever come so close to a pregnant woman before, and he'd never really noticed except in the most trivial of manners what a pregnant woman _looked_ like (round and ungainly), let alone thought on what one may have _felt_ like. Feeling strange and odd, extreme fascination washed over him, and Caspian had to fight the urge to touch Yasmina's round stomach. It was the craziest desire he'd ever had, and no little bit frightening. The very state Yasmina was in he wanted to put Susan in. Of course it was for Susan's own protection… but…

Realizing that they had stayed in that uncomfortable and compromising position for far longer than was strictly appropriate, Caspian helped her straighten up.

He had to clench his hands to keep himself for reaching out for her belly as he mumbled another apology, "I am sorry Lady Yasmina, I uh… I must go."

Before Caspian could shuffle off, "Your Highness?" her hands clasped under her breasts, resting on her stomach.

"Yes?" clearing his throat, Caspian carefully kept his gaze fixed on a point over her shoulder – his eyes were continually being drawn to her fullness otherwise.

"It," pausing, flustered, "it is not my place Your Highness, but please accept my thanks for sparing Inigo thus far."

Rubbing the back of his neck, supremely uncomfortable, "Ah you are welcome?" his voice trailing off into uncertainty.

Knowing that this was very much unlike himself, Caspian tried to call on who he was, on some sort of dignified response. And couldn't. Feeling like some gangling foal, all knobby elbows and knees, Caspian struggled. He wanted to blurt out a stream of questions – what was it like being pregnant? Did it hurt? Was it uncomfortable? Did she have everything she needed? Was there anything she wanted that he could do for her? And what did her stomach feel like – could she feel the child inside her body growing? Was she scared that she was going to pop like a pinched grape? Why was it that her stomach was so hard? Could she sleep on her side or her back without feeling like she was going to be crushed under the weight, or could she still sleep on her stomach? And if not – what _did_ she do? Was it possible to still have sex? Or did she feel like nothing was her own or like she was carrying a large basket of fruit around her waist?

"Where does it come out?" blurting out.

Her eyes widened, "Your Highness?" clearly taken aback.

Gesturing vaguely, "Um."

"The baby?" her hand going to her stomach, stroking it briefly.

Nodding, then Caspian shook his head, "Actually no, I am sorry Lady Yasmina, that was inappropriate and I believe I have something important I must see to that will not get done if I do not do it now and that would not be," his words rushing together, "a good thing and so I shall –"

"It will come out the same place it went in," giving him a strange look.

A strange look he justly deserved. Because any village idiot knew where a baby came from, and Caspian had delivered foals before, so truly human physiology wasn't all _that_ different from a horse's – as he understood it. It was just, giving himself a shake, that it didn't seem physically possible. Babies were small but not so small that they should be able to come out of such a tiny hole without tearing a woman in half. (He wasn't really aware of the fact that in some cases, yes, a woman _could_ be torn in half… to one degree or another.)

Biting his lip, Caspian somehow managed to _not_ say any of that, "Ah, yes, indeed. Lady Yasmina I," looking around trying to find something to use to excuse him from this whole ordeal and spare Yasmina (as well as himself frankly) any more of this… surreal exchange, "I must bid you good afternoon."

She moved to curtsey then winced, hand pressing into the small of her back, "Oooh."

Alarmed, "Lady Yasmina? Is there aught I can do for you?" worried, feeling utterly useless. What was happening? Was she going into labor or something? And if so – what was he supposed to do? Grab cold towels? No that didn't make any sense – hot ones maybe? Lukewarm ones?

"Oh it is nothing Your Highness," wincing again, waving one hand at him.

Swallowing, eyes still wild, Caspian took hold of her elbow, lending her some support – he didn't want her falling over again, "Perhaps you should see one of the healers."

"Truly Your Highness, it is nothing."

Caspian couldn't see how it would be 'nothing' – for goodness sake she had a little _person_ growing inside her body! How could it be 'nothing'? There was no way that it wasn't something major. And he wouldn't be held responsible for something happening to the young pregnant woman. Susan would never let him hear the end of it…

Grunting, firmly pressing her hand to the crook of his arm, "Nonsense Lady Yasmina, a healer shall see to you at once." Holding up his hand to forestall her protests, "I insist."

She sighed, then started to dip into another attempt at a curtsy but Caspian's grip on her hand where it was tucked into his elbow urged her to not attempt that again. Wracking his brain for acceptable conversation that would fit in with their roles as Telmarines, male and female, Heir and Daughter… Biting his tongue, and forcibly turning his eyes to some distant vantage far ahead (very far ahead) Caspian guided Yasmina towards one of the physicking rooms. Coming up with nothing, Caspian decided to go with his gut and speak with Yasmina as he would Susan. After all that had seemed to work out in the end and Yasmina _was_ carrying his youngest Cousin…. The black thought rose unbidden, that the child she was to birth could pose a threat to his Throne or to he and Susan's progeny. Teeth grinding, Caspian's vision dimmed in repressed anger at that idea. Taking hold of that anger, of that irrational rage, Caspian strangled it into submission. It was happening more and more but he knew that it was for the best to just grin and bear it.

For now.

Under control once again, "How have you been adjusting?"

"To what Your Highness?" their pace very slow, forcing Caspian to take small steps or risk bodily dragging Yasmina behind him.

It was irresistible and he found his eyes being dragged down to the fullness of Yasmina's body, "To…" to what? To pregnancy? There was no way he was going to ask that! Clearing his throat, "To the How."

"It is very different Your Highness," voice steady, neutral.

Telmarine men never asked such things. It indicated an actual… curiosity for another's _wellbeing_. Which was unacceptable. But Caspian did wonder about those sorts of things. A King, a Ruler, was supposed to ensure that his flock was taken care of, comfortable (to a point and to use an adjective that Susan would), so that said flock would produce a maximum sustainable output. Not that he would admit that to himself too openly, let alone to Susan without being under extreme duress. Knowing he must be making her uncomfortable, but unable to resist Caspian pressed further.

"Different is not a bad thing, it is merely… different," taking a good look at Yasmina measuring her response. The wall of female stoicism was up, and he felt the annoying urge to knock it down, "Your child's world will be very different. One where my youngest Cousin will be surrounded by many wondrous things and well educated in being a Narnian Royal as is appropriate."

The only indication of shock was a tiny pause in her next step and the very carefully measured tone of her voice, "As Your Highness wishes."

"If you bear a Daughter," pondering aloud, throwing the idea out there, and warming to it with greater ease than he thought possible, "and Susan an Heir, it would only make sense that they marry."

"You are too kind Your Highness," shoulders tensing, her fingers tightening incrementally on his forearm.

Deciding that it was unkind to push her anymore – not all women could be Susan he supposed – and he changed tacks. Without even pausing to think on the oddness of his actions, Caspian was so used to dealing with Susan by this point, he asked her her thoughts on his words. Forgetting of course his earlier anger at having been so changed by his interactions with Susan and the Narnians in general, and how un-Telmarine he had become.

Readjusting his stride (again – he kept finding his steps lengthening against his will), "You do not think it would be a good match?"

"I do not understand your query Your Highness," small lines formed at the corners of her mouth, muscles tensing even further, her only outward sign of distress.

And here he had once again failed to remember that Yasmina was a true Telmarine female. Men were to be avoided, feared, respected, obeyed and worshiped. While women were spoken to, never spoke, never disrespected a man, and never would they share something so intimate as a _thought_ or _feeling_ with a man. Women were able to provide polite conversation on command, silly things about the weather or possibly music, nothing more. Intelligent women were desired and loathed, and eventually beaten into submission and enforced ignorance. Yasmina was obviously one of those who had never fought her lot, smart enough, far thinking enough, to hide any possible independent thinking and not share it with any man. Caspian groaned internally. How must he look to her Telmarine eyes? He was a man, and men didn't care about anything other than themselves and their Sons. Then he was the Crown Prince, he was to be King, and her man had laid him low… She must be asking herself what he was hiding, what his motivations were for his kind words and sweet offers.

Irritated, he growled, the sound rumbling low in his throat. Beside him Yasmina jumped, then calmed. Anger or irritation were normal displays from men, and he'd just acted 'normal' to her, and that _comforted_ her. Whereas with Susan she would be upset or bothered by such a demonstration. Annoyed even further, put out with himself, with Yasmina, and of course – with Susan, as it was _Susan's_ freakish notions that had forced Caspian to become accustomed to a woman who actually spoke with him. And now it actually _annoyed_ him when a woman acted as she was supposed to! Yet another rumble was issued, and Caspian had to stop moving, his hands clenching into fists, while Yasmina shrank in on herself minimally – only enough as was customary for a Telmarine woman – to show her submissiveness. Struggling, Caspian reigned himself in once more. It was getting to be a bad habit, he should be yelling, shouting, throwing things, issuing orders. Something. _Anything!_ but what he was doing.

Taking a deep breath, "Come Lady Yasmina, we are almost to the healer, I shall see you the rest of the way. After that, I must bid you good afternoon."

XXX

Passing the currycomb over Peredur's haunch, while in the next stall Inigo working on his blood bay, Caspian found himself lulled. Once upon a time Inigo and he would go hunting, not daily, but at least every third day. Afterwards they each would care for their steeds rather than let the stableboys do so. The moment was familiar and quiet, and from this angle Peredur closely resembled Destrier, glossy black coat gone thick with winter's growth, but still that sleek shine to it. Instincts warred, one saying that this was normal, that this familiar filial bond with Inigo was worth more than retribution. On the other side Telmarine rage and ideology argued the fact that Inigo was _dangerous_ that there was no hold strong enough to bind his Cousin. And who could he talk to about this? Not Susan, certainly, for she would tell him to forgive Inigo, to accept this.

But Caspian _knew_ Inigo. Driven, ambitious, perfect and oh so classically Telmarine, Inigo, who not only was Caspian's torturer – but also could be a claimant for the Throne. Inigo was skilled in law, in persuasion and diplomacy, in poisons and architecture. Caspian was skilled in warfare, in tactics, in command and hunting. Repressing a bitter laugh, Caspian's hands paused in their work, glancing over Peredur's back towards Inigo who was quietly massaging his mount's shoulder. Who could he trust? Susan didn't know what a Telmarine truly was, so her advice would lack the necessary wariness.

He could ask Inigo, for that was who he turned to in days gone by. But that made neither sense nor would be prudent. Of course Inigo would outmaneuver him – saying that he was trustworthy and lying through his teeth, or would caution Caspian that he _wasn't_ trustworthy – thus making him _look_ trustworthy, and throwing Caspian off. Destrier, who while couldn't give advice, had done much in the way by simply listening, allowing Caspian's words to tumble out so he could come to his own conclusion. Peredur should by rights fill that role, could theoretically listen or give advice, but Peredur's advice would be tainted. Hatred for all things Telmarine would yield poor fields for planted thoughts. Making a sound of disgust, Caspian grabbed a different brush, so that he could ease the beginning of a nasty snarl out of Peredur's mane. This left him with what? Nothing really. Glenstorm, who would be perfect otherwise, didn't have the time, nor the grasp of Telmarine politics, social mores, or the sort of strange freak relationship the two Cousins had, and thus his thoughts on the matter would be entirely useless.

"Now would be the time I would usually ask you what was going through that bizarre mind of yours," neither jovial, friendly nor serious. Utterly absent of charm or machinations.

At least – as far as Caspian could tell.

Snorting, "Much time has passed since those days Inigo."

"True," then he quieted.

Thankful for the silence, Caspian hunched his shoulders, feeling tired and far older than his twenty odd years.

Stamping one huge hoof, "Good, I can't stand useless chatter, let alone from the King of Nothing and a Lord of Crap."

"I do not believe your opinion was requested Horse," a grunt, "but now that you have given it, I appreciate your candidness. It is very Narnian of you."

Caspian almost laughed, the dry tone and infinitesimal roll of his dark eyes typical signs of his sarcasm, as Inigo's rejoinder was tossed over the dividing wall.

Patting Peredur, "At least now I am not the only one who oversees large quantities of fecal matter, the lack of company was becoming quite trying."

"Does this mean the good Horse likes me?"

Tail swishing violently, "Hardly. I doubt even Aslan Himself could make me like you. Either of you," the Horse's head swung about to eye Caspian.

"Do the three of you suppose you could tone down the viciousness? Some of us like to believe that we can all get along," Luis exited his stall grousing, "and live happily ever after. And if we can't, I still like to believe it. So it would please me if you could stop dashing my happy little delusions."

"You've been spending far too much time with Her Majesty," Peredur whinnied, "you're beginning to sound like her."

Whacking Peredur's huge cheek, "Mind your tongue. My wife is not to be made sport of."

"It does seem you are outnumbered here Horse," Inigo leaned over the dividing wall, eyeing Caspian's Steed, "when it comes to matters of Her Majesty. Even I will not tolerate such slander."

Luis naysayed them, "Actually she wouldn't mind. Particularly if you said it to her face…"

Frowning, "I do not follow," moving to rest his back against Peredur who shuffled in an attempt to dislodge him, but failed.

"She'd laugh in his face and tell him he's a good horsy, and here have a carrot," equine laughter that verged on a giggle. "Until of course, like most of the Beasts, he was ready to follow at her heels like a lost puppy, begging for attention." Puffing himself up and taking on Peredur's mannerisms, as he paced back and forth in front of the stalls, "I am a proud Stallion, and I say that humans are shit, and I don't care for any of them at all!" Cocking his head, "Oh Your Majesty, I think you're too soft and weak. You're useless! Oh. You… you have an apple for me? And a carrot – and… oh yes that feels very nice," ducking his head shaking it side to side, as though he were Peredur having a conversation with Susan, "and could you scratch there? Oh yes that's perfect," arching his neck, "And I hate humans and they all should be eaten by Aslan. And… oh oh my yes, please my back itches right there and…" while sidling this way and that, "Would you care to go for a ride?" Eyes widening comically, "I would ever so much love to take you for a ride Your Majesty and tell you all my nasty opinions and complain like an old nag. Ohhhh my aching joints… ohhh my aching baack. I hate everyone. Except you Your Majesty, and could I please have some extra oat mash?" Pawing the ground, mirth readily apparent as Peredur, Caspian and Inigo stood there, mouths agape in shock, "Until you prance around like a yearling, rolling about begging for every single scrap of her time. Like most of us…" a pointed look was thrown Caspian's way. "We all melt eventually."

Peredur bugled out a challenge, "Come here and say such things!"

"I don't think you could take me old man," snorting, Luis danced closer, bucking so that his hind legs slammed down chipping stone beneath them. "You have size, muscle, and nothing else on me. If you and I were in the same Herd, I would be Stallion and you would be banished. Your brains are a tad… _lacking_. As is your foresight – to say the very least and not even mention your manners. And with that, I have much better things to do." Tossing his mane, and stepping light and daintily, "Like seeing if Su has a crabapple for me," as he minced off, tail held high, neck arched with his nose in the air.

Seemingly unable to stop the hearty guffaw, Inigo's shoulders shook as he attempted to repress it. Caspian could all too readily see it, and knew the laughter was being curtailed after the first couple that had leaked out. Irritated, Caspian grumbled to himself not being so daft that he hadn't picked up Luis' insult, matching Peredur's own soft rumbles. Hauling Peredur's saddle off the back rack, he went to sit in the corner of the box stall, uncaring that it probably agitated his Steed, only wanting the comfort of equine flesh nearby while he cared for the tack. While he could see the humor of Luis' mockery, Caspian was in no mood to deal with it.

"Your thoughts are still a multitude," the voice was muffled by wood, but from the sound, Caspian could tell that Inigo was mirroring his actions, so that their backs were pressed to the same wall.

"And you wish me to do what Inigo? _Talk_ with you? Unburden myself and take your," hissing the word, "advice?"

Straw rustled, "You will listen to nothing I say, so I shall say nothing. But _you _have much to say, and I will listen. You have nothing to lose by letting your thoughts flow and settle," a clink, probably from the bridle and bit, "and much to gain by it. It is a lesson I learned many years ago Caspian, if left too long to your own thoughts with no outlet, you become dangerous to all. With no outlet, you begin to latch onto dark inner demons and grasp at those around you whilst madness descends upon your mind. Destrier is no more," Caspian's fists clenched at the simple statement, "your lady wife will try and fix whatever she sees as a problem, and Peredur would only tell you what an abhorrent insult to him your very continued breathing was."

He had to admit, Inigo was right.

But only to himself.

No one else had to know that…

Especially about Peredur.

"And what will _you_ do di Sopesbian?" rescue oddly enough came from Peredur. "Be the voice of reason, the understanding ear?"

"Actually no, but Caspian has never managed to simply talk to a wall to work through his thoughts," there was a grunt, "which would have been better for all involved. At least for me, because if he _had_ learned such a skill, I would have been spared many headaches and dreary hours spent listening to his ideas of honour, heroism, right and wrong and how to rule. And the various merits to sueded leather breeches or boiled leather breaches. An experiment that failed horrifically I may add… Now, as this does not concern you, or your large, equine mouth, I would take it as a personal favor if you would keep your damnable lips fastened tightly shut."

Soft creaking from his teeth grinding together, "How honourable of you then to subject yourself to headache on my account," Caspian strangled the oil cloth in his hands like it was Inigo's neck.

"It is not for you," coming out close to a snarl, and Caspian could imagine the look on Inigo's face, "it is for my child and it is for Her Majesty to whom I owe everything. I owe you nothing that is not easily given. But my debt to her far outweighs anything you could claim, and so I shall take any headaches you could possibly give me as a favour to Her Majesty. Now – speak until there is nothing left and be done with it."

Before Caspian could say a word, Peredur left his stall, went around and yanked the door on Inigo's horse's stall open with his teeth, shouldered the blood bay aside, and stood over Inigo, "I pledged to Caspian, and I may hate him, but I also serve him. You snake, with how you slither in the grass, you damn Telmarine, you should learn to watch _your_ mouth - when it regards to myself and to my Rider. Even if I despise him, only _I_ may insult him. Now as you aren't me, that means you need to hold your tongue."

"Or what Horse?" sometimes Inigo's bravery startled Caspian, between the two of them, it had been Inigo who avoided the losing side as often as possible. Or excessive risk to his aristocratic person. "You shall kill me? You are welcome to – on His Highness' command. Or Her Majesty's. Otherwise… I do believe your hooves are quite tied."

Rubbing his temples, Caspian tipped his head back, listening to the quibbling, unsure whether he was annoyed, amused, or a bit touched by it all.

Sighing, "Be quiet both of you and get some practice listening to me. I think I will let the both of you bear the burden of my headaches rather than carry them myself." Closing his eyes, blocking out the sight of beige stone ceilings, "My thoughts have run amok and keeping track of them by myself is no longer feasible. So, open your ears, and do not make me glue your mouths shut – for I will if I must."

Horse and Cousin ceased their bickering, both recognizing the seriousness of Caspian's tone under the gallows humor. Gathering his thoughts, Caspian tried to focus. It was harder than it used to be, but so long without an outlet that didn't _force_ him to think (the way Susan did who was always asking questions or pushing him this way and that) made it complicated.

"I am unsure of where this is going," hand flopping on the saddle in his lap, gesturing aimlessly, "this war for my Throne is no longer simply a fight to depose Uncle. Change will come - swifter, stronger, and more violently than the winds of war. Afterwards there are so many other things – who to execute, who to pardon, what to bequeath to the Narnians, how to incorporate them and be incorporated by them… Who to trust in the here and now. Inigo, should I kill you? Should I trust you? Should I," weak laughter at the absurdity, "forgive you? Susan and the Council… how do I plan for their reaction, then use it to my advantage?"

Now was when Susan would have told him not to worry, to forgive Inigo, to follow his gut instincts on how to make everyone work together, and everything would be perfect la di fucking da. Perhaps Susan's sharp tongue was rubbing off on him, not just her peculiar values, her turns of phrase cropping up in his mind at times. Being as that was neither here nor there, Caspian continued to ramble, sometimes in circles, sometimes with more purpose, until he was hoarse. The only thing that let him know that Inigo and Peredur were listening was the sporadic grunts or shuffles and a lack of snoring.

When he was finished, Inigo said not a thing, just got up, putting the tack away, bowed then walked off. True to his word, Caspian's Cousin didn't offer any advice or thoughts, and had merely let him do what he needed – which was to talk. Peredur had come over by this time and stood there, staring long and hard. Inscrutable, possibly measuring, but just as likely to be plotting Caspian's long and painful death, Peredur grunted at him once, then nosed his shoulder. Horsy breath fell over his face, and Caspian breathed in the pungent smell before blowing back at Peredur. For whatever it was worth, Caspian's mind was momentarily empty now, and beyond that he no longer cared.

XXX

Stretching, yawning, Caspian's back cracked after he entered he and Susan's room. Now that it was no longer their office as well, they didn't spend quite as much time there, but that was both a good thing and a bad thing. A good thing because that meant when they were there, that was their time. But it was bad because Caspian could not just simply grab Susan up in his arms and take her whenever he so desired as when they spent so much time here before. Moving deeper into the room, his boots not making any noise over all the rugs that had been installed recently, Caspian disrobed partially, dropping his jerkin and heavy green tunic on the floor. He could clean it up later, or Rosetta would get it. Frankly he didn't care one way or the other.

The siren call of Susan's sleeping form dragged him to the bed, and he was careful to make sure his belt didn't clink as he removed it. It wouldn't do to wake her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Caspian tugged his boots off, then crawled the rest of the way onto the deep pile of blankets. Spring may be approaching, but this far north winter's hold would be tenacious, and the wet was pervasive and got into everything. His bones were constantly achy, and his knees cracked for an hour after he woke in the morning, while Susan was always shivering from it. That worried Caspian, but the healers assured him that she wasn't coming down with anything, and that it was only her body trying to adjust to Narnian winters. Leaning on an elbow, he watched her sleep, the weight of the day no longer bearing down on her. Young, oh so young, once more, Susan's pale as fresh cream complexion was relaxed and lovely. Daily austerity had crept up on her, robbing her visage of that sweetness, but it also added to Susan's beauty in its own way, making her ever more exquisite to Caspian.

Pressing a kiss to her temple, breathing in the scent of lemons and peppermint, Caspian sighed. He hadn't meant for her to carry so much, he hadn't meant for her to carry anything – all he had wanted was to have her with him. Always. Thankful as Caspian was for Susan's help, he wasn't happy with her status, she wasn't trained for it, and she wasn't prepared to deal with the stress. Now she was doing much better but this was too much, and it robbed them of so much time. Stroking her cheek and forehead with the back of his hand, Caspian felt himself fretting over her mental wellbeing, and not just her physical.

A tiny whimper made Susan's full raspberry lips quiver.

Becoming fully alert, Caspian watched her a moment.

Face scrunching, brow furrowing, she shuddered once from head to toe and then another tiny high pitched whine worked its way out. Leaning closer, so her mouth was near his ear, Caspian listened. It wasn't one brief whimper – but a continuous, rising, falling moan.

Resting his hand on her cheek, calling softly, "Susan wake up."

She didn't respond at all, when usually she was a fairly light sleeper. Giving her a gentle shake, he called her name again. Once again nothing happened, the whine coming from her still continuing, its eeriness making Caspian shiver.

"Susan, wake up," sharpening his tone.

With a twist, Susan rolled over, hands becoming claws. Catching her by the wrists before she could gouge him, Caspian wrestled with her for several long moments. Sleep and desperation combined in his wife, making her buck violently, far stronger than usual and her unfocused blue eyes were frightening. Pinning her arms over her head, straddling her legs, Caspian kept calling Susan's name, trying to wake her up fully. The terror in her eyes ate at him, what was she seeing that scared her so? What nightmare vista left Susan so petrified that she couldn't respond to him and wake up?

Frantic, Caspian let go of her hands, ignoring how they went to his face as he stretched out over her, covering her with his body. Pressing his mouth to her ear, Caspian whispered fervently to her, clutching Susan tightly.

"You are safe, please wake up, it is I, Susan, it is your husband, Caspian, please, wake up, Susan, wake up, I am here, you are safe," the litany echoing her unceasing moan. "I shall let nothing hurt you, you are safe… Please awaken."

Letting her tear at him, Caspian tried to comfort Susan, he had never seen her have a nightmare before, so he assumed this was normal for when she would have a bad dream. Nails dug into his back, biting at him through the linen of his undertunic, and he held in his hiss, not wanting to startle Susan. Who knew what sort of reaction she would have? Sobbing started, as her blows landed with increasing weakness, still fighting him, but worn out, like she was drained of strength. Caspian didn't stop murmuring in Susan's ear, protecting her from everything with his body pressed tightly to hers.

It was choked, "Caspian?"

Breathing a sigh of relief, "Yes Susan? I am here."

"Is it you?"

Not understanding, he nodded, moving so he could look into her bloodshot blue eyes, "Yes. I am here, I swear I will let nothing hurt you."

Lips trembling, Susan's eyes squeezed shut and she hiccupped once, "Okay."

"I give you my word Susan, you are safe," whispering, pushing dark hair off of her freckled cheek. "The nightmare is over. It was just a bad dream. I am here to chase it away, it cannot hurt you. I will not let it."

She was stiff, eyes still tightly closed, "Thank you."

Nuzzling at her face, Caspian's lips sought hers as he whispered, "I love you."

Beneath him Susan shuddered mightily, eyes popping open to look at him long and hard. Searching. But she already knew he loved her, he had said it to her before. Not with the sort of frequency she said those three weird little words that strung together to form a magical phrase to him, and even then she didn't say it every day or every other day, while Caspian made a point of telling her as often as he could squeeze those words out without prompting. She needed him to do that, and as they were true, and he wanted to keep her happy… Hiding any dissent, irritation or qualms away, Caspian rested his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes.

After a time, Susan tilted her face, so she could kiss him, her soft lips clinging to his own. Lashes fluttering, giving him brief glimpses of her skin, or her dark hair, Caspian abandoned himself in her sweet mouth. Groaning, Caspian's hands worked out from where they were pinned under her back, stroking Susan's sides, rubbing firmly. Tired he may be, but she always stirred his flesh, even with something so simple as a kiss. Susan turned her face away, breaking free of his lips, but he trailed them from her ear down the side of her neck.

"Caspian?" it was a whimper, hands pushing at his shoulders.

Stopping, keeping his hips pressed to hers, he panted, "Yes?"

"If I asked you to stop – "

Before she could complete the question, Caspian rolled off of her, hating how she tested him sometimes. It was her right though, and it made her feel more secure. Anything that kept her with him was something he could bear to do if he absolutely had to.

"Anything you wish my Queen," hoping his voice sounded normal, straining to hold in the cracking of his tight vocal chords.

Turning so she could look at him, "I didn't ask you to."

Covering his eyes with his forearm, Caspian reached for her with the other, dragging her to his side, "You were going to. And so I have. Are my actions lacking?"  
The leather of his trews was tented over his aching cock, and he was glad he hadn't had the energy earlier to strip fully. Susan would only take it as pressure and would give him that look that made her seem so tiny and vulnerable. As though that wasn't bad enough, the worst part was when she looked like that, all Caspian could think about was throwing her down and fucking her until she screamed. When she looked so soft, so fragile, so innocent and sweet – Caspian wanted to drown in it. Of course that was the exact opposite of what he _must_ do or worry over Susan fleeing him. Now she actually had the power to do such a thing without fear of him following afterwards. Before, before she was Queen, before she was a princess, before she was his _wife_ – Caspian had worried even then that she would run away. Even then he couldn't bear that thought, as Susan had wiggled into some niche in his soul that he hadn't realized was empty, making herself totally at home there. He wouldn't do without her, and now he had to actually _work_ at keeping Susan with him.

Caspian didn't like it.

But he didn't hate it either. Not really. It was just one of those facts of life, some duty that was irksome but necessary, and as such was just to be accepted. And if inside the privacy of his own mind Caspian roared over it and fought tooth and nail to not just imprison Susan in their bedroom once more, then that was his business. Nor was it something anyone else need know. Least of all Susan.

She huffed, "I didn't ask you to, and I wasn't going to!"

Sitting up enough to drag his shirt over his head, "Then what were you going to do? Your usual course of action is to ask me if you wanted me to do something and asked me to do it, would I. My answer will be 'yes', naturally," grunting, standing up, Caspian shoved his pants down his legs, "and then you will ask me to do whatever the aforementioned task was. And thus – I will do it. A simple cause and effect quiz that even someone of as limited intelligence as myself can figure out eventually. I may be little more than a simple barbarian who knows not much of anything outside what I was taught, but I am able to grasp lessons after they have been beaten into me enough times." Flopping back down, shuffling the covers until he was under them, "Now that I have gone through the whole argument for both of us, may we kiss, say we are sorry for the disagreement and go to sleep?"

"I wasn't going to," it was a whisper, "I don't mean to be difficult. I just wanted to know if you would."

Cracking an eye open, "What do wish of me then?"

"Nothing," shrinking in on herself.

Watching as Susan lay down, curl into a tight ball, her back to him, still dressed in the day's clothes she had been so tired that she hadn't even removed them at all, Caspian bit back a groan. Every other step forward, they had to take a step back? Did it have to be that way?

"You are lying and," hands going to the ties on the back of her dress, "what is more we both know it. It is not 'nothing', it never is as simple as 'nothing'. I do not hate proving myself to you Susan, I merely wish that it was not so random and predictable."

A tiny frown, head twisting so she could look at him, "That made no sense."

"The tests strike at random times for no seeming reason, yet each test is the same," brushing hair away from her neck, Caspian inhaled her scent again, loving it as he always did, "which is boring and insults my intelligence and devotion. And as an added bonus of irritation to the ordeal that makes it boring in ways I cannot even describe. Try something new."

"Like what?" squirming to help him get her disrobed.

"For instance you could just _tell_ me to do something for you," grunting. The outer vest of her dress came free and was thrown in some random direction, "And I do not mean simply sexual favours. Be creative."

Pulling away, Susan turned to look at him, chewing her lip, "What if I want something… sexual?" blushing for some reason at the word. It wasn't like they had any such physical secrets, yet at times Susan would look at him shyly as though she were new to all this. "And what if what I want… isn't all that creative?"

Propping himself on his elbow, "If it is what you desire, then that is what you shall receive."

"What if you weren't in the mood?"

Snorting, "When am I _not_ in the mood?"

His words seemed to have made her uncomfortable, "Caspian, do you want me because… I'm here and it's convenient, or," she stopped, looking anywhere but at him, "or are you always this… lusty?"

"I desire you," trying to formulate the words, Susan's insecurity bleeding from her pores, "because you… are beautiful. Because you are… intelligent. And because I simply do." Reaching out, laying his hand on the dip of her waist, trying to pull her close once more, to lay beside him, "I have never heard of some law that required someone to have a list of reasons why they found another person desirable. It is not as though I sit and say to myself 'what is it I find so alluring about Susan?' The reasons may be simple or complex, but I do not know all of them. For instance," moving closer, since Susan wouldn't, "you do not go wandering off in mental circles asking yourself such questions -"

"Actually," she interrupted, "I do."

Unable to stop himself, Caspian laughed, until he realized she looked serious, "You do?" Incredulous, "Why ever for? Do you not find it to be a waste of time? Time that you could spend with me rather than trying to pinpoint an exact 'why' of things, or spend working, or with yourself, or… or… or anything for that matter?"

Smacking at his hand, making him jerk it away at the sting, "You think I'm stupid for it!" Squirming, Susan made to get off the bed, "You think it's stupid that I think about you, that I try to figure out why – oof!"

Caspian rose to his knees, reaching out to grab Susan, drag her back, and pin her down, a smile tugging at his face, "I do not think it is stupid, I do not think _you_ are stupid. What I think is that I like you how you are and that you are very you." Shaking his head, "Even if that is impractical at times."

Still she bore that irritated cast to her features, lips puckered, eyes narrow, "You're just trying to mollify me so you can have your way with me."

"No, I was trying to answer your usual barrage of questions in such a manner that you would understand," still having that grin pulling at him, "to make you happy and reassure you. And _then_ to have my way with you."

Swatting at him – playfully this time, "You're an animal."

"I thought I was a barbarian?" dipping down to nip at her neck.

She made a breathy noise, neck arching when his lips touched that spot that made her coo. Breaking her focus, keeping Susan muddle headed, Caspian suckled where neck and shoulder joined, gentle and teasing. The taste of salt on her skin always made him crazy. Actually, she always made him crazy, made his body go on alert whenever he touched her for more than a few brief seconds. Craving always hit him at the oddest times, the need to be near Susan overpowering Caspian's willpower more often than not, and it usually was because he wanted to simply be closer to her. But being closer to Susan would lead to Caspian touching her, and then touching her would lead him to wanting and needing her, then to taking Susan. If it was at all possible at the time. Or he would become irritable, short tempered, and itchy actually.

Susan was an addiction, and the pulse that was beating against his lips, and the sound of her rapid breathing was like water to a dying man for him. Bracing his weight on his arms, Caspian drug his face over Susan's neck, then to the gap in her shift over her breasts, letting out a throaty thrum of desire. It was echoed, Susan thrust her chest up, pulling the neck of the pale yellow linen shift open for him. Nuzzling at the full roundness, turning his face to the side, he rubbed his stubbly cheek over the luminescent pearl that was Susan's breast, making her giggle. Fingers wound through his hair, massaging his scalp, tugging him gently, so his lips were hovering over the raspberry that was twisted into a tight peak.

"Caspian?"

Making a circle with the tip of his nose over her nipple, "Mmyes?"

"Do you think," she hesitated, legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs, and he glanced up at her, "that you could um… kiss me?" When he moved to kiss her on the mouth she shook her head, "Not there."

Scooting down her body, "Of course."

Susan lifted the hem of her gown, "All over please," flushing as she stroked her stomach, fingers brushing over her thatch.

Closing his eyes, Caspian rested his cheek on her mound, basking in Susan's proximity, "Anything you desire."

Her palm passed over his face, caressing him, "You make me feel good when you kiss me there. Special."

Caspian wasn't sure what to say to that, so he didn't say anything, stroking the inside of her thigh with his hand in lazy sweeps. Nudging her legs farther apart, he set to pleasuring her slowly. Licking the crease of her thigh where it joined her hip, then nibbling with his lips at a petal before blowing a jet of air over her sex. A sigh and Susan shifted to accommodate him, her flower opening enough to give him a glimpse of mauve folds. Pressing his mouth to her, sweeping through and tasting the light bitter saline, whetting his appetite as it always did, driving Caspian to let his tongue dance from the bud at the apex of her womanhood swirling over it before sucking long and hard.  
Muscles in her abdomen tightening, Susan whimpered, hips shifting on their bed. Working his arm under her thigh, so he could wrap it around her leg and press on her stomach keeping her in place, Caspian let his other hand move to her entrance, tracing it delicately. He had to cock his head so he could complete that maneuver and keep the touch teasing. Susan didn't strain against his grip like she usually did, begging, but she did moan and sigh continuously, the silky flesh of her calves or the slightly rougher texture of her foot stroking his back. When she seemed close to climax, Susan reached down to cup his chin, asking him wordlessly to stop.

"Susan?" frowning Caspian paused, "Is something wrong?"

She sat up, struggling to pull her shift off, "No. I just want you in me. Please?"

It wasn't like she seemed frantic or needy, but there was something off. Susan wasn't fighting him, clinging, or pushing him away – just… Unable to place his finger on it, Caspian obeyed readily. Legs wrapped around his waist, Susan now bare tugged at his shoulders, arching up towards his body, entreating. Stretching out over her, Caspian tangled his hands in her hair, kissing her long and slow. Fingers grasped his prick as Susan positioned him at her entrance, caressing his shaft, rubbing it over the delicate little lips of her femininity. Sighing through his nose, Caspian moved closer, penetrating her in a swift plunge. There was a short gasp from Susan, her thighs flexing strongly around his hips.

Moving smoothly Caspian arched his back and shoulders, tucking his face into the side of his wife's neck, forestalling his body's demands. It wanted to rush, to thrust wildly until he was spent, yet that wasn't what their joining was to be this evening. Susan clearly desired more than brief pleasure, and Caspian aimed to give it to her. Even if his fatigued, traitorous body demanded otherwise. Calloused fingertips dug into the muscles of Caspian's back, Susan whimpering as she writhed. Panting as he lapped at the silky skin of her throat and felt the softness of her belly against the hard planes of his, and the moist heat that grasped him, sucking his cock in deeper, Caspian struggled for control. Spongy ridges clasped at his girth, sending scintillating shocks from his nerves up his shaft, short cries wrenched from Susan driving him onwards.

"Caspian," voice hitching on his name, different than pleas for more or sounds of satisfaction.

Rising up on his elbows, groaning, "Susan?" unable to formulate something more coherent.

"Not," pausing, Susan scrunched her eyes closed, palms pushing at his chest, "not like this, please?" desperation that sounded horribly close to fear coating the words like arsenic laced molasses.

Rolling off of Susan, Caspian grabbed her hand, urging her to follow, "Come, tell me what is –"

She cut him off, straddling him and sliding down his prick, as her mouth came down on his. His lips parted in a surprised gasp, the cool air having kissed his heat and then to have Susan's body envelope him so quickly, even as her tongue invaded his mouth, her hands in his hair. Groaning, Caspian reached for her waist, keeping Susan pressed tightly to him as he got his bearings. Bedding was bunched under Caspian, a distant and only mildly noticeable sensation of irritation stemming from that, which was quickly forgotten as Susan braced her hands on his chest. Experimentally she shifted without him guiding her, and Caspian forced himself to relax.

It was a wonderful torture, it had been far too long since he'd last let her take the lead in the bedroom. But he vowed that that may have to change, watching her figure through hooded lids as she found a rhythm that she liked. Rubbing palms over every part of Susan that he could reach, Caspian thrust his hips up and against Susan's, flexing every few beats to make her shiver.

Susan threw him for another loop, chewing her plump bottom lip, "Caspian?"

"Mph," which was about as intelligible as he could get what with Susan hovering above his tip, having slid away, "what?"

"Umm… I… I want you in me," but she didn't mount him once more, just continued hovering.

Biting his tongue, "I am right here," squeezing pelvic muscles so his length wobbled, grabbing her attention.

"But I don't want to be… I don't want you watching me, and I don't want you over me or behind me," said in a rush.

He was too tired for this, all he wanted was to finish and go to sleep. The next day would be appallingly long, as they always were, and this time before bed was supposed to be _their_ time. Their time to be together in any way they so chose. And yet, Susan was fussing, making things difficult. Suppressing the irritation (he'd been so close and Susan hadn't even let herself peak once, and she'd been even closer than Caspian several times), Caspian sat up, pulling her near.

Modulating his voice, "Is this more comfortable?" hopefully hiding how aggravated, worried and all around exhausted he'd become from the rigors of the day and their lovemaking.

"I'm sorry," heartbreaking whisper, and Caspian felt horrible as she pressed her face into his neck.

Tightening their embrace, "Susan, tell me what you need, what you want. I will do it, you know this surely? But I do need you to meet me partway in this."

"I don't know," mumbling.

Stroking her back with his fingertips, "Susan," sighing knowing that anything he said would come out wrong, Caspian continued, "I am tired, you are tired, and we should probably rest." Caspian could hear Susan swallowing, most likely another apology, or maybe words of anger – he couldn't be sure, "But I wish to be with you. You wish to be with me, yes?"

"Yes," infinitesimal nodding.

Sighing Caspian tucked his chin over Susan's cheek, "Then what do you think we should do," turning his head this way and that so the stubble on his face scraped her gently, liking the way her soft skin felt against his coarser, "about this then?" Closing his eyes, bone tired, "I am open to suggestions."

"I… don't know," her arms, far more muscular than he'd expect of someone so soft, her time spent with bow and Horse having toughened her up some, squeezed Caspian before relaxing, "I'm all topsy-turvy. I don't know what I want."

Twisting, Caspian flopped over, dragging Susan with him, "Then perhaps you should sleep on it?" not letting go, he started stroking her back, "You could wake me up when you awaken and have come to some sort of conclusion."

Rather than answer him, she wiggled and Susan pulled away enough so she could look up at him, "You're so much different than you were."

It wasn't said like she found it to be a bad thing. Caspian tried to remember, but at the same time he didn't feel like he'd changed that much from the way he had been. He knew he had changed, yet he was too tired to think on it overmuch. Brushing a stray tendril from her pink cheek, Caspian thought that maybe he should be more confused than he was. Susan's observation should also have hit close to home, and at one point would have irritated him more than it was. How many times had she tried to guide him into the mould she desired (it was more like shoving, but it _had_ worked) and it did appear that he had become someone not quite himself. It didn't feel like it though, except the fact that he had to think so damnably much, and use words to express himself, and that he couldn't just order or boss people around the way he'd been used to. Other than that, Caspian felt he was still the same – with some additions.

That at times ruled his life.

And kept him from doing whatever he felt like

Or –

Growling, Caspian lay his hand over his brow, massaging the tight muscles of his forehead, "Woman, I try not to think about those sorts of things. Could we try and just simply… _sleep _without some huge conversation about… what is the word I am searching for?" Grumbling, Caspian shifted onto his back, keeping Susan tucked into his side, "Ah yes, the state of our relationship. Or my status as your husband, or you as Queen, or – or any of that. Perhaps we could just have a simple session of sex and then sleep. That would be my preference."

"Do you still want to?" her leg was sliding over his thigh, but Caspian didn't think Susan's heart was in it.

Making a face, "I do believe I have a headache suddenly, and we should sleep." Climbing from the bed he went to blow out the lanterns, washing the room in darkness but for the two torches near the door, "In the morning or at least after an hour or several of sleep if you are so desirous of coupling I would more than gladly oblige." Flopping onto their bed, making it creak, "If that is sufficient?"

Susan rolled into him as soon as he was under the covers, "Would you hold me instead?"

Settling in, "You need never even ask such a thing ever again," slipping a leg between hers, Caspian locked their bodies together, "as you may always take that as a fact of life."


End file.
